


Set My Blood Aflame

by LadyIsabella



Series: Bound Together [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Afterglow, All Consenual, Alpha Dutch, Alpha/Beta/Omega AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Beta Hosea, Canon Typical Violence, Discussion Of Consent/Lack of, Liberties with canon and plot but hell if I care :P, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Omega Arthur, Poor Arthur..., Porn With Plot, Porn in Chapter Ten Mainly!, Praise Kink, Slow Burn, Slow and Gentle Sex turning into rough and hot sex :P, Talk of Blowjobs, alternative universe, attempted non-con, pre-canon fic, touch kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-07-23 19:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20013703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIsabella/pseuds/LadyIsabella
Summary: Arthur Morgan is nearly seventeen and yet has never presented as anything; his mentors Dutch and Hosea are worried about him, but decided that this train robbery is too good to miss. After that they will take him to a doctor and get him help...Only Arthur’s body has other ideas and cuts short those plans when he presents during the job. This forces Dutch to rethink all he knows about himself, and Arthur...Will they find happiness? Or will Arthur lose the only family he has ever known and loved?(Likely a few spelling errors 😂 Plus liberties were taken with canon settings and timings etc plot too...but hell, what are fics for if not for some mixing up! Proper NSFW stuff starts chapter 9 onwards if you are only here for porn :P





	1. There is something about Arthur...

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like this :D 
> 
> I read Sciencefictioness’s AMAZING ‘Bloom’ a few weeks ago and this started my interest in writing my own Alpha/Omega fic for Arthur and Dutch. I throughly recommend you go and read ‘Bloom’! It is so hot and sweet :D 
> 
> I’ve gone with the interpretation that Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Alpha, Beta/Beta etc can have children (malexfemale parings) and that Omegas of either gender can also have children, by Alphas, and that these children are stronger/smarter etc than other children :) This may not be important lol but we’ll see!

“I’m worried about Arthur, Dutch,” Hosea said softly, gesturing across the fire to a point some metres away, where Arthur was standing watch, a rifle across his knee, gaze on the woods where they were camping. 

“How so?” Dutch replied, lighting a cigar. 

“You know why...Seventeen in a matter of days and he’s not presented clearly as anything. He doesn’t smell like an Alpha or a Beta...nor God forbid an Omega; that would be a death sentence for him, living as we do. But he must be something. He cannot be nothing.” 

Dutch sighed. He drew deep on his cigar, let the smoke fill his lungs with its heady aroma for a moment or so, holding, holding, holding, until finally he breathed out in a fragrant blue cloud. “I know, Hosea. I’ve been considering it myself. At his age he should have presented as something, even if it is merely a Beta, but...” he looked over at the handsome young lad he had watched grow into manhood. 

“There’s been no sign of anything. Not even a hint. He’s built well, strong, fast, a good fighter, like an Alpha, and he can lead when needed but...he seeks approval and comfort too. I don’t know what to make of him.”

“Maybe it’s his childhood,” Hosea added, flipping over a haunch of venison that hung over the fire. “Always hungry, beaten black and blue by that beast of a father, then living on the streets. Maybe it’s stunted him.” 

Dutch nodded slowly. “Perhaps. Still...even as a child, my mother knew what I would be. Always said, from age six or so, she knew what I would become. Said I could walk into a room and have it under control it seconds.” 

Hosea smirked. Dutch had that presence, that was for sure. He could well imagine a little dark haired boy with dark eyes and a ‘do as I say’ manner. “Well...it’s his birthday in a week. If he ain’t presented by then, we are gonna have to take him to a doctor Dutch. For his own good. 

His old friend nodded. “I know. I know. A good one though...I ain’t subjected him to one of those butchers. I’ve seen what they do...I’d rather leave him be than have them torture him into presenting.” 

“God forbid, Dutch!” Hosea agreed and prodded their dinner with his knife. 

_

A little away, out of earshot, Arthur Morgan kept scanning the landscape of dark trees before him. He knew full well the chances of anyone finding them were slim. They were miles and miles from any town or even a lone shack. Dutch reckoned these woods didn’t even attract hunters, being so far out of the way. 

Which meant there was good hunting to be found! Arthur had brought down a fine buck that afternoon that would last them a good few days. Hosea had salted up some of the meat too, just in case. Not that they often went hungry nowadays. If hunting failed to supply, they’d buy or steal what they needed. 

Dutch was real particular about that. Especially concerning Arthur; he never wanted him to go hungry...not again. It was the first thing he had promised him, the day he took him under his wing. 

“You’ll never go hungry with me, son.” 

And he never had. He had never been hungry. 

Never been alone. 

Never been scared. 

Not beaten or abused. 

He had been safe. Loved. Cherished, almost. 

Dutch and Hosea had taught him to shoot, swim, read, talk without staring at his feet like a lost lamb, but instead to hold his head up high. They’d taught him how steal, properly, not just pick the pockets of drunks in ghastly saloons. 

They had taught him to be a man. And how to love...How to forgive. 

Hosea had sat him down, not long after they had picked him up, and told him about Alphas and Betas and how one day, soon, he would present as one. He had told him that Dutch was the Alpha of their little group, and Hosea was a Beta, which meant he deferred to Dutch; though he could still argue. 

He had mentioned, briefly, that some folk were Omegas. But they were rare and usually only found in brothels, as slaves, poor things, or else mated to an Alpha strong enough to protect them. They were valuable things because children born to an Omega were stronger, faster, more intelligent beings than children born to Beta or Alpha mothers. 

_“But you don’t need to worry about that, son,”_ he had said, smiling and closing the book he had been showing Arthur. “ _You’d have already presented if you were gonna be an Omega!”_

And that had been that. 

The waiting had begun to see if Arthur would be an Alpha or a Beta. And time had moved on. They had robbed, killed, travelled...grown close. Like a family. Like the one he had never enjoyed. 

But nothing had happened. 

Arthur hadn’t been too concerned. He liked his life. It was easy, well, it was comfortable in any case. No pressures. No rules, besides the code Dutch instilled in him...

Feed those that need feeding, save those that need saving, and shoot them, as need shooting. 

It was easy enough to follow. And he believed in it. He believed in Dutch. 100%. Dutch always had a plan. And it was always a good one. 

“Dinner, Arthur,” Hosea’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He looked up and grinned, accepting a tin plate with cuts of venison on it and some cold potatoes that’d had been cooked for breakfast. 

“Cheers,” he took the plate and remained sitting, his back up against the tree where he sat. “You alright, Hosea?” 

“Yes...yes, I’m good, Arthur. Anything out here?”

Arthur shook his head as he started eating. “Nah, not even a mouse.” 

“I reckon we’ll be alright here, for a few days, while we see what is about. Come and sit by the fire then, lad. No need to keep watch, I doubt,” Hosea said, smiling. He turned and walked back to the soft orange glow. 

Arthur rose, shouldered his rifle -a Springfield, and his most prized possession bar his hat- and came over, his dinner in one hand. He smiled at Dutch and sat down opposite him on the log. He started to eat, nodding as the men talked. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he liked to listen. 

“So, as I was saying, Hosea,” Dutch started, after Arthur sat, “This train that is coming through...my information tells me that there will be plenty of wealthy folk on it, well stuffed, as it were. We should be able to hold it up, one of us keeping watch, the other two collecting the loot. There won’t be guards. Not out here. Place is full of simple farmers...they won’t suspect any trouble.”

“Are you sure, Dutch? Not even a couple?” Hosea asked, frowning over his own dinner. 

“I’m sure, old friend. Trust me,” he smiled. “We’ll be in and out in a matter of minutes, and clear away with a good haul that will set us up for the next few months. We can head nearer to civilisation,” he nodded, this time more seriously, to Hosea, with a half glance at Arthur. 

Hosea looked too. 

Arthur, too busy eating, missed the stares entirely. 

“Alright, Dutch, you know best. We’ve enough bullets anyway, just in case...How many days until it comes?”

Dutch put down his plate and wiped his mouth. “It’ll be here tomorrow, sundown. About a mile from us. We can stop it at the valley edge...It’ll be easy.” 

Arthur finished eating and looked up, “Sounds good...Been a while since we had a train robbery.” 

“Good lad, see Hosea? Arthur isn’t worried.”

“I’m not worried, Dutch. Just...cautious. Seems too good to be true,” Hosea said calmly. “But we’ll go with your plan Dutch. I trust you.” 

“Good, good now...let’s get some rest. Tomorrow Arthur, me and you will go scout the location. And then in the afternoon, we’ll head off and get in place. Goodnight gentleman,” he rose and headed off to his tent. 

In those days Dutch’s tent was just like Arthur’s and Hosea’s. A simple, one man tent, with a wolf skin on the floor and a bedroll to sleep on. He kept his boots wrapped in hide, to prevent them from getting wet, and tied up with a belt. 

Arthur yawned and stretched then stood too, “Want me to deal with the fire?” 

“No, son, it’s alright. I want to make a few tonics. You get some rest.” 

“Night Hosea.”

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

_

Arthur lay down on his bedroll and stared up at the canvas above him. His possessions were few; a photo of his father, and a photo of his mother that he kept in his journal. A pocket watch, he had stolen before meeting Dutch and Hosea, and a flower he kept preserved in a jar. He remembered his mother, vaguely, having one and saying it was lucky. These few items were kept in a small lockbox that could easily be strapped to his horse. 

He sighed softly. If he was an Alpha...would Dutch kick him out? He’d seen fights between Alphas on the street and it never ended well. If the loser didn’t die they usually came out of it badly scarred and crippled for life. 

He’d rather die than lose Dutch and Hosea. But it all depended if Dutch saw him as a threat. If he did well...

_“Please God...Don’t let me be an Alpha,”_ he prayed silently. _“Anything but that. I can’t lose my family...”_

Slowly he drifted off to sleep, thoughts of what he might be swirling in his head...

_

Arthur and Dutch rode out early in the morning, just after dawn. Both rose early anyway even when they had no reason to, so they decided they might as well head out. They might get some game too, after they had examined the location. 

“How are you feeling, son?” Dutch asked as they rode through the sparsely placed trees. The sun was shining weakly through the leaves above them. 

“I’m alright Dutch...”

Dutch nodded and shifted in the saddle to look at him side on. “You...feel anything, Arthur? Any...sign?”

Arthur swallowed and shrugged slowly. “N-not really. I dunno what I am looking for though, I guess. Um...what does it feel like?”

“Well, I can’t speak for Betas; you’d have to ask our old friend Hosea. But for me...It’s like a fire in the blood. The knowledge that you, and you alone, are the strongest in a group, the one who will know what to do. You...you ever feel like that lad?”

He shook his head slowly. “Not really, Dutch. You...you know best, and I ain’t gonna argue with that. I ain’t much of a thinker.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Arthur! You’re just a little deeper than us talkers, is all,” Dutch smiled warmly at him. “Now, don’t mind it. You’ll be a Beta, like Hosea. Just a late bloomer is all. It happens. Perfectly natural,” he lied. He’d not heard of anyone taking this long to present! 

Arthur looked at him and nodded, accepting the reassurance. “If you say so Dutch.”

“I do!” He smiled. “Now, let’s not worry about it no more, son. It’ll happen when its meant to. Now...this train...” 

_ 

The ambush spot looks good. Cover on both sides, nothing nearby but plains and woodland. Not a shack or homestead for miles. And certainly no likelihood of the law turning up. 

“It’s coming from that direction,” Dutch said, gesturing from their vantage point on the hill. “Hosea can keep the driver under control and me and you, son, will deal with the passengers.”

“Me? Dutch I...I dunno. What if I mess it up?” 

Dutch laughed, rich and fruity sounding. It made Arthur blush. “Arthur, son, you won’t! Just look threatening and hold the bag out. Any fool can do it...” 

Arthur looked away at that, feeling the sting of the casual insult. 

“Arthur...” Dutch stepped closer and put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t meant you are a fool. I was generalising....What’s nagging you, lad? You’ve been quiet today...” 

“I dunno, Dutch. Just...been thinking about...you know, presenting and...” 

Dutch nodded along then said softly, “You scared about it?”

“N-not really. Just..what if I’m an Alpha? Will I have to leave?” Arthur said, in a hot, desperate rush. That was his worst fear, losing his newfound family...losing Dutch and Hosea. Being cast out. Even if he was an Alpha, or meant to be one whenever it was time to present, he had no desire to lead or be in charge. He would follow Dutch to the ends of the earth and beyond. 

He could not imagine anyone being so devoted to him. Nor did he want it. 

Arthur swallowed then made a soft, desperate noise. He was so scared suddenly. He had shown his hand, as Dutch would say, and now waited for the hammer blow. 

What happened took him by surprise. And it made his heart melt. 

Dutch’s hand tightened briefly on his shoulder then he pulled him close into a crushing hug. His scent enveloping Arthur in the warm feeling of home. “Son...Arthur, no matter what you are. What you are meant to be. What you become. You are my friend, my brother, my son...I will never abandon you, or betray you. You will always be at my side, Arthur. Always. No one, or no thing, will come between us.” He held Arthur tight to his chest. They were nearly the same height now, and likely Arthur would grow a few inches taller. 

“Do you understand?” 

Arthur swallowed. He felt safe, warm, protected in Dutch’s arms. He never wanted to be from this man. “Y-yes. I understand Dutch...” he whispered softly. “But I thought it...it was one Alpha per...household, group...or whatever?” 

At that Dutch chuckled. “Something you learned on the street, lad? That’s nonsense. A strong Alpha is not afraid of competition.” 

“So I can stay...if...if I present as an Alpha?” 

“Absolutely Arthur. No matter what. You are stuck with us!” He chuckled again and released him. “Now...tell you what, let’s go fishing, shall we?” 

_

Arthur was happier when they returned to Hosea later in the morning. The talk with Dutch and the fishing had calmed his nerves and he was confident he’d not be thrown to the side of the road if he was an Alpha. And if he turned out to be a Beta, well it was all the same. 

Both he and Dutch had had a good fishing run; he had two perch and a bass while his fellow fisher had three bass and a small trout. It would feed them for lunch today and dinner. Maybe with some left over for tomorrow; or if it was just scraps, that could be used for bait. 

That was something else Dutch had taught Arthur; use everything to your advantage. 

Arthur set about cooking the fish while Hosea and Dutch started to talk and plan. He could have been involved if he wanted but he found it better just to let them plan it out, and he’d do as he was told on the day, as it were. 

He glanced over a few times as the fish sizzled; Hosea looked pensive, Dutch confident, as ever. After a moment of slyly watching Arthur let the fish cook and sat down to clean his rifle. He was hoping they would not need it later, but it was always better to be prepared! 

The Springfield rifle had been a gift from Dutch, for his last birthday. It was beautifully crafted with dark wood and nickel metalwork. He often found himself cleaning it even if the gun was spotless, just to be able to caress the smooth wood and the cool metal. 

His rifle meant more to him than most anything else. His pistols were special to him, but his rifle...that had been when he had first felt like a man. Of course he hadn’t been. He’d been sixteen, as skinny as a pole and gangly too. But the moment Dutch had set that rifle in his hands...the shuddering in his hands, his body, his blood had stopped. He could feel his heartbeat in that gun. He knew, from then on, he was Dutch’s weapon, crafted, like the rifle, for his purpose. 

And that he would never betray his maker. 

Never. 

He could no more betray Dutch as he could...Oh, break someone out of a stage prison! 

“Right, son,” Dutch interrupted his thoughts. The man laughed, “I believe that rifle is scrubbed as clean as it can be, Arthur. Anymore and you’ll take the wood clean off it!” 

Arthur blinked and looked down at his gun. He had been mindlessly rubbing the same part as he watched the flames flickering in the fire. “Oh,” he laughed too and rubbed the rag once more along the wood then put it down, and tidied away the oil. “I was miles away, sorry.” 

Dutch nodded slowly, looking him over with concerned eyes. “Not still worried about what we talked about, son?’ 

“Nah, Dutch,” he said, smiling. He put his rifle to the side, and stretched a little. “Just...getting ready, you know? For the train. I don’t want to let you down, Dutch.” 

“You’ll never let me down, Arthur,” Dutch assured him. “It will be fine. Now...let’s eat and talk over the plan!” 


	2. One Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The robbery begins...and goes wrong when Dutch accidentally triggers something in Arthur....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two! Shorter but it felt like the place to break! 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Dutch, Hosea and Arthur sat on horseback on the ridge overlooking the train line. It looked desolate in the late afternoon sun; stretching away into the distance with nothing on either side but the never ending landscape of the state. 

“Right, masks on gentleman...I can see the smokestack in the distance,” Dutch said, nodding to the gloom there could just see below on the plains. “Arthur, you ride along side and jump aboard. Like we did in New Austin, remember? You persuade the drive to stop and we’ll come aboard.”

“Sure, Dutch,” Arthur nodded, pulling his dark bandanna over his mouth and nose. 

“And Arthur?”

“Yeah Dutch?” 

Dutch smiled and then pulled his own bandanna up so that just his warm eyes showed, “Don’t kill the driver unless you have to. The good folks on the train will die out here if we do that.”

Arthur smiled behind the cloth. He loved Dutch for that. They may be outlaws and what the world deemed ‘bad’ men but without fail Dutch was always considerate. He refused to harm women and children -even if the woman was armed he’d knock her out, rather than shoot her, unless he was given absolutely no choice- and he would never rob from those with nothing. In fact Arthur had seen with his own eyes Dutch give away food and money to those in greater need than themselves, without expecting anything back. 

Hell, he had taken in Arthur himself, excepting nothing in return; he had taught him everything he now knew, and got little in return. Well, unquestioning loyalty but you could hardly buy anything with that. 

Not for the first time he wondered how Dutch expected to be repaid. Whatever he asked though, Arthur knew, he would gladly pay. 

Even his life. 

He checked his rifle one last time then urged his horse down the hill. Arthur watched the rails, feeling the vibrations growing louder as the train got closer. He grinned. The adrenaline bubbled inside him. He felt his blood start to burn. He felt amazing suddenly. This was new! He had never felt so...alive when on a job. 

The train, whistle blaring, suddenly trundled past him at a shocking speed. Arthur’s horse, Jezebel, was well trained and did nothing more than whinny a little and shift as the train whizzed by. Even at the speed it went, Arthur could see the wealth onboard. Gilt window decorations, red and gold curtains, plush and happy wealth, travelling in style and comfort. 

None of them expected to be robbed. It was perfect. He also saw little in the way of guard. One or two stationed about the place. Easily dealt with!

He grinned and spurned Jezebel onwards to chase the train. His rifle slung across his back. He rose up in the saddle and got ready, riding faster and fasteruntil finally he saw his chance and leapt up onto the flat trailer with contained various trunks and the like. He landed hard, with a wince, but rolled to avoid the worst and was up on his feet again in seconds. 

Dutch had taught him well! 

He looked left and right then pulled out a mirror from his pocket -a gift from Dutch for just such an occasion- and used it to signal Hosea and him on the hill; part one achieved, as it were. 

Arthur pocketed it again and, readying his rifle, made his way through the storage cars towards the engine. He met no resistance and couldn’t help but smirk. The wealthy were so trusting and foolish! They likely imagined that, out in the sticks, as they were, who would bother robing them? 

The van Der Linde Gang, that’s who. 

The odd couple and their delinquent son. 

Arthur paused, in the second carriage just before the engine. He could hear voices. He ducked behind the entrance and peeked out. Two guards sat playing cards and smoking beneath a swinging lantern. He paused, thinking through the options, then checked. He was beside the cross over from one carriage to another. Perfect. 

He let out a whistle. 

The guards jumped visibly, and looked around, frowning. 

“You go, it’ll be that boy from Boston again. Bloody lad has been annoying me since he got on the damn train,” one said, stubbing out the cigarette and lighting another. “Box his ears for him and I won’t say a word,” he added, smirking.

The second guard smirked back, “I’d rather have a go at his mother! Piece of work she is...” Still he rose, stubbed out his own cigarette and walked through the carriage towards the one where Arthur hid. The man, clearly having had a few brandies and not expecting anything out of the order, strolled over the cut-through and past Arthur. 

“Alright lad, come on out...” he called, looking about. Before he could see Arthur however a rifle butt clocked him in the head and he fell in a heap on the floor. 

His fellow looked up at the noise and frowned when he saw his companion on the floor. He shot to his feet and glared, “Right! You little bastard, that is enough!” He raged and marched through, ready to give the child a hiding. 

Instead he too found himself clubbed over the head to join his friend on the floor. 

Arthur smirked. It was all too easy. He felt his blood sing at the pleasure and ease of it all. This would go well. He could make Dutch proud. And really, what else was there? 

To have his hand on his shoulder, a smile on Dutch’s lips, a smile for him, and to hear him say, ‘You did well, son’...It made Arthur feel warm all over. 

He shouldered his rifle and bent down, going through the guards pockets. Just in case, he took their pistols and tossed them over the side to clatter into the plains. 

Then, aware the train was getting further away from Dutch and Hosea, he hurried through the final carriage to the engine. The driver was obvious to the goings on as he could not hear over the noise of the train. The first he knew of it was when a pistol was pressed to his head. 

“Stop the train, or I’ll blow your brains all over the controls and do it myself,” a voice echoed in his ear. 

The driver flinched and nodded, “A-alright, Mister! P-please...” 

“Never mind all that, just stop the train,” Arthur repeated, pressing his pistol harder against the man’s skull. 

“A-alright!” The driver hastily pulled on the break. The painful screech and flash of sparks ringing out in the dark. 

“Good man...now...I’m afraid you’ll need to keep quiet for this next bit...so...” he knocked the man out and made his way back to the flat platform he had landed on. 

It only took a few moments for Dutch and Hosea to appear beside him. 

“Good lad!” Dutch said, climbing up. “Is the driver dealt with?”

“Yeah, Dutch,’ he offered a hand to Hosea and then said, “Knocked him out...saves any issue later!” 

“Good idea. Change of plan then Hosea, you deal with the luggage. Arthur, you come with me,” Dutch readied his pistol and handed Arthur the sack for the loot. 

Their hands brushed as he did. Dutch seemed not to notice and turned to make his way into the first of the passenger cars, but Arthur felt a jolt run through him. He swallowed and bit his lip. Was it hotter all of a sudden? 

He tugged at his collar then shuddered a little. His skin felt clammy. Arthur shrugged it off and followed Dutch. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Dutch called, spreading his hands, “We are here to relieve you of your weighty valuables! If you do as I say, no one will be hurt and we shall leave you to your journey!” 

The travellers looked horrified and clutched each other. 

Arthur went to the first couple, both of whom were dressed impeccably in silks and velvets. “Come on,” he gestured with the bag, “Give me everything!” 

The couple yelped in terror and hastily began to put watches, earrings and money into the sack he held. 

And so it went along the carriage; no one put up any fight, even the couple of men with pistols. They seemed to stunned to actually react and meekly handed over everything. 

It was all going very well. 

Too well. 

Until Arthur suddenly felt faint and stumbled half into Dutch. He reaction on instinct and grabbed Arthur to stop him falling to the ground, his hand coming to rest on Arthur’s neck. 

At that touch Arthur felt like the world had exploded in his mind. 

Everything changed in that second. 

His bones turned to jelly and he sagged against Dutch, his hands coming up to grip his shirt. “D-Dutch...” he whispered, half mad with the heat that seemed to run through him, setting his blood and nerves on fire. 

Dutch’s eyes went wide and he stared, opened mouthed a moment, before he realised. 

Arthur...his...his Arthur was in heat. He...he was an Omega. And he had gone into heat. At his, Dutch’s, touch. He had heard rumours of such but had never seen it! 

He then realised that they had to go. Now. It was too dangerous. An Omgea in heat...

He grabbed Arthur, roughly, by the waist and hoisted him over his shoulder, deaf to the lad’s soft moans and croons of ‘Dutch, please...hurts’. They had little time to waste. 

“Hosea! To me!” He shouted and made his way back towards the flat platform. 

The Alphas on the train were catching on and starting to shift, scenting the air with drunk looks. 

Dutch himself could feel his own blood howling; take, take, take...

He fought it down, though it was hard, with the scent of virgin, untouched Omega in his nostrils and surrounding him. 

Arthur continued to moan softly and was half crying over his shoulder. Although Dutch had never, obviously, experienced a heat, he had read a lot and knew that Arthur would likely have little understanding of what was happening...not now his body was flooded with hormones. All he would be able to think of was the pain, the heat inside him and finding an Alpha...any Alpha, to stop it. 

Dutch whistled and jumped off the train as his horse came into view. He hastily shoved Arthur onto the saddle, and mounted up behind him.

Hosea ran into view then stopped dead as the scent of Omega in heat hit him. Even a Beta could scent it, though it had little effect on them. “Shit...” he cursed softly and whistled for his own horse. “Dutch, take him home! Now, I’ll follow. You can’t stay here. It’ll drive them crazy!”

“I’ll take care of him...” 

“No...Dutch...You...” 

Before Hosea could finish Dutch urged his horse on and rode off, the sound of Arthur sobbing echoing in the growing dark. 


	3. It’s Alright, Arthur.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hosea sits down with Arthur and gives him some fatherly love and advice after Dutch admits defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three :) Enjoy! 
> 
> There will be smut coming! But I am building on plot first :P I imagine I will post some one shot naughty smut too at some point this week for those who can’t cope :P hehe

Dutch rode away from the train quickly, for Arthur’s sake. Any Alpha on that train would have smelt the sudden change and would be desperate to claim the Omega. 

He swallowed heavily and breathed through his mouth. Arthur, slumped in the saddle in front of him, was moaning softly, entirely lost to reason. Still, Dutch heard him whisper, “m’sorry, Dutch...”

Dutch stayed silent. If he spoke, he would say something he might regret...like...I want you...

He swallowed and urged the horse on, desperately fighting his own urges. He had to fight it. Had to resist. Hosea...Hosea was right; he couldn’t. Arthur was his son, his comrade in arms. If he stepped over that line, there was no going back. He would be betraying everything he had ever said to Arthur. He would be betraying Arthur entirely. He had to fight the urge to claim him. It would be wrong. 

But...but what else could he do? He’d cross that bridge when it came to it. First he needed to get Arthur settled and safe. 

He rode into their small camp and jumped from the saddle, then gently pulled Arthur down, and into his arms. He swallowed and closed his eyes. The scent, sweet and yet woody, enveloped him briefly. 

“D-Dutch...please...hurts...” Arthur begged softly, his voice sounded lost and so, so young all of a sudden. He clung onto Dutch’s shirt with the desperate strength of the damned. 

“I...” Dutch said, suddenly unsure. What on earth was he going to do? He knew what he wanted to do...what his blood was calling for him to do; to have Arthur in his tent and have him every way possible until the end of time. 

But...

“I know, son, I know...just breath for me, alright, Arthur? Deep breaths, in and out...in and out...that’s it...” he coaxed softly. 

Arthur dragged in a shaky breath, breathing in Dutch’s scent as he did so. “Alpha...Dutch...please...please...” he moaned, his fingers digging in painfully through the fabric of his shirt. 

Dutch closed his eyes again briefly then gently, but firmly, pushed Arthur back to look at him. He looked ruined but oh so beautiful...

His eyes were lust blown, his lips parted as he gasped and moaned around the pain-pleasure of his heat, his skin damp from sweat, his sandy fringe hanging low over his forehead. 

“Arthur...my boy,” he whispered. “We need to cool you down, alright son?” 

The only reply he got was a groan and what might have been a mumbled, “Dutch...” 

He decided that, given Arthur’s condition, it was better just to take control. He put an arm around his shoulder and half dragged, half led him towards his -Arthur’s- tent. It was better, he reasoned, to keep the lad surrounded by his own scent. Any other would just confuse him. And hell, the poor boy was in enough of a whirlwind. 

“Come on lad, that’s it...” Dutch gently detached Arthur’s hands from his shirt, only to have them cling back on, like a child. “Now, now Arthur...let go...” 

Arthur seemed not to hear him and merely clung on tighter, sobbing softly. His scent ebbed and flowed around Dutch. He swallowed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea...

“Dutch!” The sound of hooves and a shout made him look out through the tent flaps. 

Hosea rode back in and dismounted quickly. He looked relieved, for some reason. God knows what he had expected to see. No. That wasn’t true. Dutch knew what he had expected to see; Dutch taking advantage of Arthur. 

“Oh thank God...” Hosea whispered as he hurried over. “Dutch. Leave him. You can’t help him. Your scent will just...” 

Dutch swallowed and nodded. “I...I know...” He gently, once again, removed Arthur’s hands and held them tight, to stop him grabbing him once more. “Arthur...son, you need to calm yourself...alright? Hosea...Hosea will look after you...” 

“N-no...Want...want you...D-Dutch!” He whimpered softly and struggled ineffectively against Dutch’s grip. 

“I...” Dutch sighed and hastily passed Arthur’s hands to Hosea who held him tight. “I’ll...fetch water,” he said, swallowing before he left quickly. 

Arthur struggled against Hosea, but due to his heat he was unable to fight. He whimpered. “Dutch!” He shouted and struggled briefly before he sighed and slumped against Hosea. “Want..Dutch...” 

“Arthur...hush...Come on...let’s get you out of these clothes. You’re burning up.” 

_

When it happened Arthur had had no idea what it was, for a moment. Dutch’s hand had touched his next and suddenly heat exploded fully in his blood. He felt his eyes blow with pleasure and desire. 

Alpha. Want. Want Dutch. 

It was all he could think of. He felt the jewel bag slip from his grasp as he slumped against Dutch. His scent...heady and delicious filled his nose. 

The journey from the train to the camp passed in flickers of emotion and desire. In his heat fuddled mind he did manage to discern that Dutch hadn’t said anything...was he disappointed? Of course...he...he was...

Arthur felt the sobs welling up inside him until luckily the heat overtook him once more. 

When he came too again he was lying on his bedroll in his tent, stripped naked with a blanket up to his waist. Hosea was nearby, gently ringing out a cloth in a bucket. 

“Hosea...” he whispered, blinking through the haze that still filled his brain. 

“Arthur?” Hosea turned and came over, gently brushing a hand over his hot forehead. “It’s past for now, son...but...it’ll be back. Soon. I...” he sighed. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. We...none of us could have known, son. But...” 

“Please don’t send me away!” Arthur said suddenly, lurching up off the bedroll. 

Hosea placed a hand gently on his chest and pushed him down. He could feel the clammy skin and the tension lurking just under the lad’s muscles. “Arthur, listen to me,” he paused, thinking through his words carefully, “Dutch and I...will never send you away. You are our son, in every way it matters. What you are makes no matter to us...I...I said I am sorry, and I am, but I said I was sorry because...well, life will be hard for you now...now you have presented as an Omgea. The world is often cruel to those who are different...I...” 

Arthur swallowed and stared up at the canvas of the tent. “So...what will happen now?” He asked softly. 

“Well, I’ll stay with you for now, and keep you cool. Soon enough you’ll...go into another round of heat and you’ll not remember much. But I’ll be here, all the time, alright?” 

“What...what about Dutch? Is...is he mad?” 

Hosea sighed softly. “No, Arthur. He’s not mad, of course not. Why would he be lad?” 

“Because...because I am...” he swallowed and twisted his face in disgust. “I’m useless now! I...” 

“Listen to me, Arthur. You. Are. Not. Useless. This changes nothing. Understand me?” He reached over and gently gripped Arthur’s face to make him look at him. “You are still, and always will be, a clever, strong and capable man. You are a marvellous shot, and you’ll be a huge asset to Dutch and myself. Notwithstanding that you are our son! Being an Omgea...it no more makes you less of a man than having black hair instead of blonde or having dark skin instead of white.” 

Arthur swallowed again and looked back at the wise face of Hosea. He bit his lip and nodded slowly. “But Dutch-“

“But nothing, Arthur. Dutch is not angry. He was just concerned for you. I am as well. But we will help you through this. However we can, whatever it takes, alright?” 

“Yes...”

Hosea smiled. “Good lad, now...drink this for me,” he turned to the wooden box that served as table and picked up a little wooden cup. “It’s just water. You’ll need to keep yourself fit.” 

Arthur sat up a little and sipped at the cool water. He felt better for it and lay down with a sigh. “How...how long does go on for?” 

“Heat?” Hosea sighed himself. “I...I don’t know all about it. But a few days? I imagine. I...I have heard it...it would pass quicker if...if the Omega had a mate to ...help but...’

Arthur blushed scarlet and looked away. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry, son. As I said, we will get you through this. I promise,” he said, patting his shoulder. “Just rest, for now. And I’ll sit with you.” 

He nodded, still not looking at Hosea, and swallowed. Everything he knew had been turned upside down. Who was he now?`What was his future? 

Then he remembered his wish, his prayer...

_ Anything but an Alpha... _

It seemed God had taken him at his word and given him what he wanted. He felt hot tears burning his cheeks. 


	4. We All Make Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hosea and Dutch talk about Arthur and what to do with him. Dutch admits some home truths, while Hosea tries to reason with him about the future...
> 
> Then it all goes wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God poor Arthur. I feel so bad for him now xD There will be happiness I swear!!

Dutch had left camp after he had brought the water for Hosea. He couldn’t sit by the fire, or tend to the horses, or wait to hear about Arthur as if all was fine. He was shaken to his very core. Arthur...his Arthur...an Omega. What twist of fate was this? 

He...he had often found himself looking at Arthur recently. For a year or so. First in admiration for the man he was becoming...then, more recently, in lust for the man he saw there. Had God done this to punish him? Turn Arthur into an Omega, an object of lust and desire, for him...turn his son into such, so that he may never have such? 

He had to leave the camp then. For now. To clear his head. He had ridden out, staying clear of the plains and the location of the train, and instead had drifted through the woods, letting his horse lead him where it liked. Dutch sighed and stared off into the darkened tree line as his horse nibbled the grass below. 

“Oh Arthur...” he whispered. The poor boy. So young, and yet his world had been turned upside down. And what on earth could they do with him? An unmated Omega...his scent would bring every Alpha within ten miles running to them when they drew nearer civilisation! 

“What am I to do with you?” He said, closing his eyes. He loved Arthur, like a son, and...other things. Not that he could admit such! Dutch swallowed and looked around, as if expecting Hosea to be standing there, knowing what he thought, and judging him. 

Of course, there was an easy solution. He could claim Arthur for himself. 

But he couldn’t. Hosea would never forgive him. And...and he doubted he could forgive himself. Arthur was, for everything but blood, his son. Besides...He could never do it, without Arthur’s consent. Well, he could. It was all perfectly acceptable. An Alpha could take whatever Omega he chose and the poor creature couldn’t refuse. And once the heat faded, the Omega was usually content enough; the hormones making it seem that all was well. 

Dutch groaned aloud and ran a hand through his hair. 

Shit. Shit Shit.

“Arthur...my boy...why...why this...” 

_

Dutch reappeared back at camp as the dawn was breaking. He hitched his horse and sat down at the dying embers of the fire with a heavy sigh. The scent had gone down a little...likely Hosea’s doing, but he could still smell him. 

To distract himself, and to mask the smell, he set a pot of coffee to brew on the iron stand, then got the fire going again. Soon it was crackling happily. It might have been any other morning. 

He glanced towards Arthur’s tent with a sigh. 

After a moment of staring Hosea came out and caught him looking. Dutch didn’t even try to look away quickly; it would have achieved nothing. He poured the coffee instead and waited. 

He didn’t have to wait long. 

“He’s sleeping, for now,” Hosea said, accepting a tin cup of coffee. “But he’ll wake again soon and it will start all over. While...while you were gone, he screamed something fierce and cried desperately. He...he asked for you Dutch. Again and again.” 

Dutch sipped his own coffee slowly then replied, “It’s...it’s just because I am the nearest Alpha. Anyone, in his condition, would do. You...you know that.”

Hosea looked at him, his gaze cool. “Do you really believe that Dutch? Honestly and truly?” 

“Course,” he said, not meeting his friend’s eye. “I ain’t...I ain’t touched him Hosea!” 

“I know. But d’you want to?” 

Dutch swallowed. “It...I can’t help it! He’s...he’s what we all seek! An Omega...I...my blood calls to him. I can’t help it none, Hosea!” He rubbed his neck and sighed deeply. It sounded like a death rattle; the finality of it. 

“What do I do, old friend?” He asked after a moment. “He’s...He’s my son. Likely the only I’ll ever. I...I can’t betray him like that. Even if it will help him. I...” 

Hosea looked conflicted and puffed out a breath of air. “Dutch...we’ve been friends for many years. We’ve seen a lot, lived a lot of lives, done...done bad things in our time. Sometimes though, you have to chose one evil over another. Arthur is our son, yes, and I love him as much as you. I’d move heaven and earth to keep him safe. I imagine you’d say the same.”

Dutch nodded but kept silent. His hand gripped the cup tightly.

“An unmated Omega, Dutch...You know what that means for him. Hunted, chased, groped and worse, for the rest of his life. Every month, you’d have to go away from him, and I’d care for him, but I’m a Beta, Dutch. Couple of strong Alphas smell him, come along, they’d easily take him from me. And once they had had their fun...then what? If they don’t kill him...hell, it’d be better if I did after that. We’ve both seen what happens.

So...if not that fate. Then what? We take him to some vile brothel, and leave him there, with his own kind? Where he’ll be abused and used until there is nothing left. Or else used as an unloved breeding machine to pump out babies who will be taken from him within minutes? I’d rather kill him now, that subject him to that. It would be kinder and I imagine, if he knew his fate, he’d do it himself. 

Dutch...” Hosea sighed as he finished. “Maybe...maybe he was sent to us for a reason? Maybe his presenting was delayed...for a reason? He’s nearly a man now, hell, in a few days he will be. Seventeen and grown, for all to see. Once...once this heat is over...you need to talk to him. Sit him down and ask him what he wants. You’re not a monster, Dutch van Der Linde. You never have been nor will you be. If you cannot bring yourself to mate him, without consent, then ask for his consent. Ask him what he wants. Arthur is not a fool. He’ll know what he wants from life.” 

Dutch swallowed. “But...his heat, it will make him say what he thinks I want to hear. What an Alpha wants to hear.”

“But that will pass. In a day or so. Then he’ll be as clear headed as the rest of us until...next month,” Hosea replied, finishing his cup of coffee. He rose and poured some more into the cup. “Think about it, old friend. I’ll take him some coffee...he’ll need the energy for the next bout.” 

“Yeah...I’ll...I’ll go hunting,” Dutch managed. At least he could be useful while away. They still needed to eat. 

Hosea walked back to the tent with the coffee while Dutch stood and stretched. He had hardly taken one step when he heard the clank of the cup and looked up to see Hosea coming out of the tent looking horrified. 

“Dutch...Arthur’s gone!” 

_

Arthur scrambled through bushes and brambles, ignoring the stings and scratches they gifted him with. He’d only had time to pull on his jeans and boots, leaving everything else behind. Tears streamed down his face as he ran and tripped; desperate to get as far away from the camp as he could.

_ “I’d rather kill him now than subject him to that...”  _

That was what Hosea had said. And...and Dutch hadn’t disagreed. They were going to kill him. Put him out of his misery. All that talk. It had been lies.

He had come to and crept to the door of the tent to listen to them talking. His brain had been so befuddled that it had taken a second before he made out what they were saying. After hearing that one sentence he had panicked, dressed, and ran. He had managed to sneak out the back of his tent, cutting his back on the rough edge of the canvas as he did so. 

As he ran and stumbled away from camp, all he could think was ‘Dutch....Dutch...Dutch...’. Every beat of his heart seemed to be saying it. But...but Dutch didn’t want him. And...and Hosea wanted to put him out of his misery. 

Arthur, too caught up with thinking and sobbing, didn’t notice he was running headlong towards a sharp decent in the tree line. As sure as water goes over the falls, he plowed headlong through the bushes and suddenly found himself tumbling over and over himself down a steep bank. 

He landed with a sickening crunch and everything went black. 

_

“...Smells like it...” 

“...Omega? Out here? Alone?” 

“...Seems to be...Ain’t been claimed neither...”

“...Hot damn...” 

“...Let’s get out of here...Bring him...” 

Arthur blinked and the world swam before him. He could make out a few figures before the world swayed again and he realised he was slumped over the back of a horse. He blinked again and winced. He was fairly sure he had broken his arm when he landed.

“Dutch...” he whispered. 

A voice cut through his brain and made him whimper, “Ain’t no one coming for you, boy! You’re ours now!” 

A cackle of evil laughter made Arthur’s blood run cold. 

What had he done?


	5. No Weak Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur has been captured by two brutish Alphas who are determined to have some fun...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Attempted non-con but it’s not explicit or graphic.

“Gone? What-“ Dutch broke off and hurried to the tent. He cast about then noticed the smear of blood on the underside of the tent. He grit his teeth and cursed. “God damn it...Hosea, he...he must have heard us talking. Shit!”

Hosea went white. “God damn. Depending on what he heard...Shit. We need to find him. He’ll go into a heat phase again, at any moment, if...if there is anyone about, they will scent him.” 

Dutch nodded. “I’ll go. You stay here, in case he comes back.”

“Dutch-“ 

“Hosea! Do as I say, please,” Dutch went to his horse and mounted up, “I can track him with his scent, you can’t. Just wait for us. I’ll be back...with Arthur.” It was a promise he intended to keep. 

He rode past the tent, his eyes on the ground one moment, then ahead as he scented the trail Arthur had left; blood, heat and tears...it was a heady mix. He swallowed and spurred his horse on. He would find Arthur, and bring him home. Then...then he would make sure that lad knew how much he was wanted, how much he was needed...He’d never feel unloved again. 

_

Arthur awoke to a dull, yet constant ache in his arms and he quickly realised they were tied behind his back, tightly and cruelly with no give. The rope dug into his wrists. He tried, and failed, to move the fingers on his left hand. He had thought he had broken his arm, but perhaps it was his fingers...He was in too much pain and half dizzy to know which bit of him hurt most. 

He opened his eyes slowly and took in his surroundings. He was lying on his side on the forest floor. Arthur shivered a little and winced. He was still only in his jeans, except now his boots were gone too and his ankles were roped together tightly. He tested and found he could still flex his toes. 

Thank heavens for small mercies; at least his legs weren’t broken! He had to get away...

Arthur craned his neck and looked behind him as best he could. Two -he sniffed the air- Alphas sat around the nearby fire, drinking whisky and laughing and joking with each other. He could see two horses hitched up to the tree to his left. 

Two...That was good. At least there was only two of them. Still. Two grown Alphas. He swallowed. He needed a plan. But...but what?

Inwardly he cursed. Dutch. Dutch would have had a plan. Several, most likely. 

Dutch always had a plan. 

What would Dutch do in this situation?

Arthur relaxed into his bonds, to try and ease the pain in his arms, then thought. Dutch...he...he would use what he had. What...what did Arthur have? He had no weapon. Hell, he didn’t even have boots any more! And tied up, he could hardly run off. Besides, they’d catch him within seconds...so...

He had...his appeal as an Omega. That...that might work. It was about all he had. He swallowed. Could he do it? Arthur closed his eyes briefly then, hearing one of the men get up and start to approach, he made his choice. 

Suddenly he was flipped onto his back. He cried out in pain and stared up at the hideous face above him. The man had clearly never been anything to look at, but the wounds he had made him look like the devil himself, coupled with the grin he was giving Arthur through broken and rotten teeth. At some point he had lost an eye, and the empty socket had been badly stitched. His cheeks were pockmarked and scarred from god alone knows what. Smallpox most likely. 

“Alright, pretty one?” The man crooned, crouching down over him. 

Artur tried to swallow his revulsion at the smell of the man’s breath mixed with stale smoke and whisky. Dutch never smelt like that. Even if he had smoked a cigar or drank...everything about Dutch was pleasant...

He blushed, though it worked to his advantage. 

The man above him grinned through blackened teeth. “Aw, that’s right, pretty one. You know what you need, don’t ya?” He reached down and stroked Arthur’s cheek. “We done played cards for who gets to have you first. I won...So me and you we are gonna go off and have some fun...then my friend back there is gonna have his turn...If you please us, we might not leave ya here for the wolves. We got a deal, pretty one?”

Arthur flinched then nodded, “Y-yeah...I...please...hurts..” he whispered, “Need...” 

“I know what you need pretty...” the man grinned again. “Don’t you worry...” He reached down and lifted Arthur up and over his shoulder. 

At sixteen, nearly seventeen, Arthur had yet to fill out enough to be much of a burden for a grown Alpha. Years of going hungry had taken their toll and he was still small for his age, even if he was growing slowly under Dutch’s and Hosea’s care and attention. 

Arthur watched the backs of the man’s boots as he walked him off into the woods. Would Dutch come for him? Would Hosea? Or...or would they just be pleased to have gotten rid of a useless Omega? He swallowed back the whimper that threatened to burst free. 

The man didn’t go far, but he went far enough before he slung Arthur back to the ground. He cried out again as his arms hit the ground and pain lanced through him. 

“Now...” the man leered at him. “I know you ain’t alone out here...Got you a family or something lad?” 

Arthur blushed. “Something...” 

“Well, don’t you worry. They ain’t gonna find you, pretty one. We made sure to cross the river a few times. Ain’t gonna be able to follow your scent. And even if they do, by the time they found you, they ain’t gonna want you no more...” he grinned. 

Arthur’s heart gave a lurch. Then...he really was on his own. Still...This Alpha had no idea what Dutch had taught him. He likely assumed Arthur was just another weakling Omgea...He...he could show him different. He blushed, or gave the illusion of it, and looked off to the side. 

“Aww, no modesty, pretty one,” the Alpha said, smirking. “I know what you need. Now...” he pulled out a knife and cut through Arthur’s bonds at his ankles, then rolled him over and cut his hands free too. “I know you won’t fight, pretty. I can smell it on you. You need a damn good fucking...”

“Yeah...” Arthur whispered, putting on a fake, breathy voice. He’d seen Omegas do it in town once or twice, few years ago, when he’d been too young to know why or what it meant. 

“Ah, that’s a good boy,’ the man sounded pleased, and very turned on. 

Arthur prayed to whatever God might be listening that he could pull this off. Otherwise he doubted he would ever see Dutch or anything else again. 

The Alpha sat down astride Arthur and ran his hands over his chest. “So soft,” he crooned. “Perfect...Why ain’t no body had you yet, boy?” He teased. “You shy?” 

Arthur shrugged and smiled shyly, though he felt like vomiting. The stench of the man was disgusting. 

“How about you give me a kiss, pretty one? Show you mean it...” He leant down over Arthur, breathing on him as his lips neared his. 

“How about not...” Arthur whispered and slashed the man’s knife across the Alpha’s throat. 

He stared at Arthur, stunned, then pressed his hands to his own throat. Blood poured between his fingers. He gurgled, unable to shout or call out, and slumped to the side, thrashing in the dirt as he bled out. 

Arthur sat up, holding the knife tightly in his good hand. He thanked Hosea silently for that trick of pickpocketing. The man hadn’t felt him reach inside his coat and lift the blade. Or if he had, he’d been too turned on to realise what was happening. 

Blood stained Arthur’s bare chest and neck but he didn’t care. He stood up shakily and looked down at the dead Alpha. Just to make sure, he bent down and plunged the blade into the man’s heart. He made no sound or movement. He was dead. 

Dutch had always told him to be sure. Just in case. You never knew with some buggers. 

He looked towards the fire. He could just see it flickering through the trees. Now he smelt like Alpha and blood, he hoped the second Alpha wouldn’t notice, yet, anyway. He bit his lip, wiped his hands on his jeans to give a better grip then crouched down and made his way towards the clearing. He paused behind a tree and checked his position. 

It was alright. Could be better. Still...

He gave a sharp whistle and hastily, just as the man glanced up, moved to the side. 

The Alpha frowned. “Stop shitting about, Colt, and just fuck him all ready. You already done won him. Ain’t no reason to show off,” he snapped and went back to poking the fire, bottle of whisky in hand. 

Arthur gave another whistle, this time louder. 

“Hell’s teeth, Colt! You-“ he stood up and marched over towards the noise, his gait wobbling. Clearly he had had more than one bottle. He passed by Arthur and looked about. 

Just as he turned he saw Arthur in his eye-line but never had a chance to utter a word. Arthur fell on him with all his weight and stabbed him, over and over again, in a desperate rage. The man went down hard and stood little chance as Arthur plunged the knife into his neck and chest again and again. 

Finally he slowly and stopped, breathing hard. He slumped to the side and lay next to the body, gasping for air and nearly sobbing. He had done it. He had really done it. 

He wasn’t no weak, worthless Omega. He...he was Arthur Morgan. He...

Arthur struggled into a sitting position and smiled weakly. His face, chest and neck was splattered with blood. His arm was screaming in pain and he couldn’t feel his fingers on his left hand, but he had not felt so invincible in a long time. 

He’d show Dutch. And Hosea. He...He was worth keeping. 


	6. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Dutch find each other again and head home to a worried Hosea. All is well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so overwhelmed by all the comments and encouragement hehe :) Seriously guys, I am so humbled! Xxx

Dutch, unaware of what was and had taken place concerning Arthur, followed his trail down the bank. His dismounted and searched about. He glanced back up the bank and charted what had happened. 

Arthur had fled, and, distracted by something, had tumbled down the hill...and landed here...heavily, it looked like. He sniffed the air but could scent no blood...so he hadn’t broken the skin but... 

He checked the ground and the trees and sighed. He’d likely bruised himself or broken a bone or two. So, strictly speaking he could not have gone far. 

Dutch rose from a crouch and looked about. Then he saw it. Hoof prints on the leaf litter and mud. He scented the air once more then frowned. Alphas. His eyes widened. Damn it to hell. It was as Hosea said! 

He mounted up once more and followed the hoof prints as far as the creek. Dutch rolled his eyes. Did they really think that would work? Maybe, in a large river when running from a Beta. But he’d track and find Arthur no matter what it took. 

He rode across the thin water and followed their trail as clear as day. Evidently these fools had little brains between them. Dutch kept his eyes and ears peeled for any sign of movement, any shape or hint of Arthur. 

_

Meanwhile Arthur himself went through the dead men’s pockets and stole anything and everything they had. He was tempted, for a moment, to take one of their coats and shirts, but he couldn’t bear to have their scent on him any more than he already did with the blood. 

Instead he found his own boots near the horses, mounted up on one, and rode off towards the creek. He needed to wash. He felt...polluted. Wrong. He couldn’t go back to Dutch and Hosea stinking of this foul blood. He...he had to be clean. 

Arthur winced as he rode. He could feel the heat teasing in his blood once more. “Please, not yet...” he whispered, urging the horse on towards the stream. 

All he could think about was Dutch. Dutch. Dutch. 

And then suddenly he could smell Dutch. He rode harder, desperately searching. 

“Arthur!”

“Dutch?” He glanced about then he saw him. Dutch. Riding hard towards him, looking worried and heartbroken. 

Arthur blinked and found himself slipping from the saddle to run towards Dutch’s horse, driven by some deep, in-built need. 

“Arthur!” Dutch called again and leapt down from his saddle too. He pulled Arthur to him in an embrace, not caring about the blood staining his shirt. “Oh, my boy, my boy...” He pushed him away a little and ran his hands over Arthur’s arms, checking for injuries. His hands, calloused, delighting in the soft touch of Arthur’s skin, “What did those bastards do?” 

“It’s...it’s not mine, Dutch...I...” Arthur closed his eyes and sobbed softly. The heat in his blood was roaring. 

“Tell me later...son...tell me later, for now...We need to take you home,” he whispered, pulling Arthur to him once more and holding him tight. 

“But...but Hosea and you...don’t...don’t you want me dead?’ 

“Dead?!” Dutch frowned then recalled the talks. “Oh, Arthur...Dear, dear Arthur...No. No. Not at all. We...I’ll explain that later to, alright?” 

Arthur nodded against his shirt, breathing in Dutch’s scent, and clinging desperately to the fabric, as if he could press through it into Dutch’s very being. “I’m...I’m sorry...Sorry I’m...an Omega...but...I ain’t weak Dutch. I swear. Please...please don’t throw me out. I...I can still-“

“Arthur! Calm down, son,” Dutch soothed, stroking a hand through his sandy locks, dappled with blood. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? Once...once you’re back to yourself.”

Dutch paused then added, giving Arthur a chance to show he was capable of it, “D’you want to ride, son? Or...come with me on mine?” 

“I’ll...I’ll ride. Got...got some loot in saddle bags,” he said softly, looking proud all of a sudden. 

“Good lad. I am proud of you. Even in your condition...you...you remembered what I told you.”

“Always, Dutch,” Arthur said, nodding seriously. “I...I ain’t no burden, Dutch. I...I’m always gonna pull my weight.” 

Dutch couldn’t help but smile at that. His boy. His Arthur. He was a damn fool to think this would change anything! Omega or not...Arthur was still Arthur. His boy, his son, his brother...His...his what? What now?

He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Besides, in his condition, he doubt Dutch would remember. He’d wait, tell him when it was time. “Come on then, son, mount up. Let’s get you home.”

_

Hosea paced back and forth by the fire, ringing his hands and sighing. He could have kicked himself. He should have reckoned on it; Arthur listening in. The boy never knew when to mind his own business. Hell, it was how he’d ended up coming along with them. 

A gangly, half-starved, half-wild child, about fourteen years old, maybe a little less or more -it was hard to tell, and until they asked Arthur they hadn’t known for sure- who’d been cloth-earring in to their conversation about a stage. 

They knew he had been following them, as they wandered through some one horse, no good town called Prestige. Both had ignored him, pretending not to see or hear his steps. Though he did walk softly. Hosea reckoned he planned on pickpocketing them and running off down some alleyway. 

All power to him, Hosea had thought at the time! Very few had the nerve to try and rob Dutch van Der Linde. Tall, well built, emanating power and confidence. Dutch could be in rags and still have entire control of a room in seconds with just one sentence. 

The lad was good, but not good enough. He’d waited for his chance and taken it when Dutch was seemingly distracted. Of course he was nothing of the sort. The second the lad’s hand had gone to his pocket, Dutch had caught and twisted his wrist. 

They had never looked back. 

Hosea sighed and prodded the fire to give himself something to do. If...if Dutch couldn’t find him, or worse found him dead, he would never forgive himself. How could he had been so thoughtless? His son...his son, and he had been so cruel. 

He looked up sharply at the sound of hoof beats on the ground. He turned and his heart leapt. Dutch, and Arthur, riding back into camp. He was startled to see Arthur covered in blood and ran over. “Arthur! Son,” he reached up and helped him down from his horse. 

Arthur sagged in his arms, breathing hard. “Hosea...I...”

“Arthur...I am sorry. It...We were talking out of turn and we were certainly not planning on harming you, son!” He pulled him into an embrace and held him tight as Dutch dismounted. 

“I know...I’m sorry I...I was scared and...” Arthur sobbed into Hosea’s vest. 

Hosea held onto him, his gaze on Dutch. He could tell something had changed in his old friend. He’d come to a decision. One that would, he was sure, change all their lives. He nodded slowly at him. He knew there was no other way. Neither of them could bear to part with Arthur, and they both knew what kind of life he would have without them. It was the only way. 

And aside from that...He could see in Dutch’s eyes; the Alpha loved Arthur, as more than a son. Perhaps he had before too, even before this happened. 

Dutch, seeing the nod, breathed out a sigh of relief and ran a hand through his dark locks. There was a lot to do before then. “I’ll get some water ready, for you Arthur. You need a bath.” 

Arthur blinked and pulled back from Hosea to look at himself. The blood had dried and was sticky. “Y-yeah. Guess I do,” he smiled shyly and looked from one to the other. 

Finally, he was home again and it was all out in the open. 

Nothing would separate them again. 


	7. By His Hand, I am Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Hosea tends to his wounds, Dutch gives Arthur a bath, and they start to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, this is fluffy as hell 😂

While Dutch fetched water from the creek, Hosea helped Arthur out of his stained jeans and boots and sat him, naked as the day he was born, on a tree stump. 

Hosea checked him overly gently then examined his hand. 

Arthur winced and bit back the pain as he did so. 

“Reckon you’ve broken your wrist, son,” he said, checking his fingers. “I’ll make a splint for it, bandage it up, but can’t do much else but let it heal in its own time. Luckily it’s the, not the right, for shooting and that. But riding might be hard on you.”

“Least I’m home, Hosea...I...I thought for a time there I’d lost you and Dutch,” Arthur said softly, trying and failing to flex his fingers. 

Hosea cupped his cheek and smiled, “You ain’t never gonna lose us, Arthur. Your path is entwined with ours, from now and until forever.” 

Arthur smiled back at him and then held out his left arm to let Hosea see to it. It didn’t take long; couple of splints made from wood wrapped in cloth to stop them rubbing him raw, then the whole thing wrapped in bandages. It weren’t comfortable, he mused, but at least it kept his wrist in place. 

“Here, for the pain,” Hosea handed him an open bottle of whisky. Arthur grinned and drank it readily. “Remember the first time you let me drink?”

“Oh dear me, yes,” Hosea nodded, laughing as he did so. “You certainly set out to prove you could drink anyone under the table...Didn’t really work out for you, did it son?” He winked. 

Arthur shuddered and swallowed the mouthful of whisky. It burned his throat but god did it feel cool. “Nah...It was Dutch’s fault! He kept pouring the shots!” 

“You didn’t have to drink them!” 

“Maybe not but...well,” he laughed and shrugged. “Dutch said he was proud of me. I didn’t pass out none!” 

Hosea laughed. “Maybe not, son, but you did throw up about nine times and collapsed into bed sobbing about a Racoon, I believe it was?” 

“Ah hell, I dunno Hosea...Can’t remember much of it!” Arthur blushed and looked down at his hand. “Hey...Hosea...can I ask something?” 

“Of course, Arthur, anything,” came the reply. 

Arthur rubbed his shoulder with his good hand and then said, “See...see this heat thing? How come it comes and goes? I...I thought it was more...full on? It...boils up and then recedes, and then comes again...” 

Hosea nodded as he spoke then patted his knee. “I don’t know much about it all, son. But, well...I reckon it fades and comes back and forth as its the first time. Your body has only just presented, and its getting used to it. It’s...learning, I guess. And fighting too, I wouldn’t doubt, knowing you, lad!” He chuckled. “It’s fighting the heat, with all it has. But eventually it loses the fight, and you succumb. Then it passes, and the fight begins again.” 

“Yeah...So...” he sighed softly. “It ain’t done?” 

“No, son,” Hosea said, shaking his head. “It ain’t done yet. Few days, maybe. It’s hard to know for sure. Sooner maybe, or longer, it all depends. And...and it depends on Dutch too.” 

Arthur frowned. “Oh Dutch? How...how come on Dutch?” 

Hosea looked rather embarrassed and ran a hand through his hand, removed his hand from Arthur’s bare skin and swallowed. “He’s an Alpha, Arthur. An unmated, Arthur. And you are an unmated Omega. You...you are going to be drawn together. It’s the nature of the beast, as they say. Now,” he pointed at Arthur, “I know Dutch, son. I know him well, better than he knows himself most days. And he ain’t going to force himself on you, no matter what the blood tries to make him do, lad. He’d rather have himself knocked out, than do that. So...once this is done, and you can think straight...He’ll come and have a talk with you. About what you want, understand me?”

“Y-yes, Sir,” Arthur said, nodding as he did so. He understood. Dutch was a good man. He...he weren’t no bad man. He’d never hurt Arthur. Not if he could help it. 

“Hosea, the lad’ll freeze to death, you leave him sitting there naked!” Dutch said, walking up with a bucket of water from the creek. 

Arthur flushed from his head to his toes and shifted on the tree stump. Course, Dutch -and Hosea- had seen him naked before! He’d seen them too. There was little privacy out in the wilds. But...well it felt different now. Now...now he knew what he was and...what he might be to Dutch. 

Dutch chuckled at his modesty and set the bucket down. “None of that lad. Now, let’s get you washed and cleaned, and into bed.” 

At that Arthur blinked and looked at him, wild eyed. Already? Just...just like that?

“Alone! Alone, son, I...” Dutch blushed himself and rung out a rag from the bucket. “Just to sleep. You need to rest. I...We’ll talk, like I said. After. After this is all done and dealt with, understand?” 

‘Yes, sir, Dutch,” Arthur replied, smiling shyly. He reached for the cloth but Dutch stopped him and smiled. 

“Let me son, you rest that arm,” he said, nodding to the splint. 

Hosea smoothed his shirt, grabbed his hat and said, “I’ll...ugh, go see about some rabbits.” He sensed this was a private moment and not for his eyes. He nodded to Dutch and walked off into the woods. 

Dutch smiled at his retreating back then picked up the cloth, rung it out proper, and looked to Arthur. “Can...can I?” 

Arthur blushed and nodded.”Course, Dutch...” He sensed this was something Dutch had to do. Something he needed to do. An act of redemption, maybe. Who was he to say no to that? 

Slowly Dutch brought the cloth to Arthur’s chest and wiped at some of the dried blood. Little rivulets of pink water ran down his skin. He rinsed the cloth and wiped again, revealing more and more pale skin under the blood. “I’m real proud of you, Arthur. Real proud. You know that son?” 

“I know, Dutch. I know.” 

Dutch’s fingers brushed over his skin as he slowly washed the blood from Arthur. It was indeed almost a religious action. Every dip of the cloth, every gentle wipe, every touch of his fingers, a loving gesture. 

Arthur sat still as he was bathed, blushing shyly. This was not the first time Dutch had washed him. He remembered, not long after they’d brought him with them, that Dutch had taken him to a hotel for a bath -an entirely alien concept- and left him to wash. 

He had had no idea what to do, and wasn’t sure about the tub of steaming water. Washing at home had consisted on a bucket of water by the fire and a rag. 

After about fifteen minutes Dutch had knocked and come in, to find Arthur still standing full clothed, tugging at his collar and looking scared. After some coaxing and soft words, Dutch had persuaded him he’d be fine, and he wouldn’t drown. 

“What are you thinking of, son?” Dutch asked softly, sliding the cloth over Arthur’s cheek. 

“That time...in...hell, I don’t remember. That hotel. And my first bath,” Arthur said, grinning. 

“Ah yeah,” Dutch grinned too. “Bless your heart, that time Arthur. Ain’t never seen a bath! God, we laughed about that, that night.” 

“Ain’t my fault, Dutch!” Arthur retorted, smirking. “Mama died when I was little, and Daddy cared ‘bout nothing ‘crept the bottle.”

Dutch smiled and cupped his cheek, letting the cloth fall to the ground. The blood was mainly gone now in any case. “Ah, I know, son, I know. That time is passed...It’s me and you now. And Hosea, of course. You ain’t never got to worry about stuff like that again....If I take to the bottle, Hosea would have me horsewhipped before my second one. So don’t you fear about me falling in with your Daddy on that score.”

Arthur leant into his touch and smiled, “Never, Dutch...” He turned his head to the side and, his eyes on Dutch’s, pressed a shy kiss to the calloused palm. “I...” He bit his lip. He couldn’t say it, not yet, but inwardly he did. 

_ I love you, Dutch van Der Linde.  _


	8. Out the Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short interlude - Arthur’s heat comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a shorter one! I have bigger plans for next one so this is more a scene setter hehe

Arthur looked into Dutch’s dark eyes and bit his lip slowly. Dutch’s hand felt like a brand on his cheek, an indelible mark that would be with him until the day he died. 

He watched as Dutch’s pupils widened briefly at his kiss and his lips parted.

“Arthur...” he breathed softly, “We...” he sighed deeply and gently removed his hand, sliding it over Arthur’s shoulder as he did. “We can’t...not...not yet. I...I ain’t saying no. Just...not yet, alright?” 

“Why not, Dutch? I...I ain’t a child. I know what I want.” 

“I’m sure you do, son, but you don’t know what it means, not yet. And I want you to have all the facts, Arthur, before anything happens,” Dutch replied, nodding as he spoke. 

Arthur gave him a look, rather like the one he had a few years back, when told he weren’t allowed to drink. “Alright, Dutch...” he said, sighing, and begrudgingly agreeing. 

“I ain’t saying no, Arthur. Just not yet. Now,” Dutch stood up and dried his hands on his pants. “Come on you, let’s get you to bed, alright?” 

“Alright,’ Arthur rose too and followed him over to his tent. He suddenly felt exhausted as the last traces of adrenaline left him. He sighed sleepily and robbed his eyes.

“Come on lad, you lie yourself down,” Dutch said, gesturing to his bedroll. “You got any candles left?” 

Arthur nodded and dug one out of the little box he kept. Dutch took it, struck a match on his boot and lit it. He stuck it down on the top of the box, on a plug of wax from the previous time and smiled. “Well, I reckon that will do for tonight. Hosea’ll be back soon and he’ll come sit with you.”

“Can’t you stay?” Arthur said, sitting down on his bedroll and pouting. 

Dutch shook his head. He’d sorely like to. With all his heart he’d like to. But...

“I can’t, Arthur. I can’t. Even though I want to...When you go into heat again, son. I...” he sighed. “It’s like...opium, you remember we met addict near that god forsaken place called...what was it? Blackwater? There. Over in West Elizabeth. Remember the look in his eye?”

Arthur nodded, listening with interest. 

“Well, son, if he smelt any opium he could no more stop himself than I could stop myself when you go into heat. It’s something you can’t control,” Dutch finished. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll be at the fire. And Arthur?”

“Yes, Dutch?” 

Dutch reached down and cupped his cheek, “Don’t you go running off again, lad. It’d break my heart.” 

Arthur smiled shyly and nodded as he lay down. “I won’t Dutch. I promise.” 

“Good,” Dutch smiled, ruffled his hair as if he was a child, then took his leave, closing the tent flaps as he did so. 

-

Hosea returned about an hour later, two rabbits over his shoulder. “The lad sleeping?” 

Dutch nodded, “Yeah, reckon he’s exhausted. Just checked on him a minute ago. No sign of his heat again yet, but I can smell it lingering. He ain’t done.”

“No...but my God he is a strong one, Dutch. To keep fighting his heat, and to have fought off attackers as he did so. I’ve never seen it before. All Omega’s I have seen are lost to their heats, throughout it. Only gaining some clarity on occasions. Arthur...he is lucid for far longer than I would have expected. It is rather amazing,” Hosea said, sitting down on a log by the fire. He tossed one of the rabbits to Dutch to skin, while he set about the other. 

Dutch was quiet a moment as he gripped the rabbit’s hind legs and pulled. The skin came away easily. “He’s some man, that is for sure...Omega or not...He never ceases to amaze me. Heat sick and scared, he kills two grown Alphas, loots them, and comes back to us...” He smiled and shook his head. 

Hosea smiled fondly then said, looking at his old friend seriously, “Dutch...Are you going to claim him?” 

The only sound for a time was the crackle of the fire and the wind in the trees. The rustle of leaves and the quiet noises of the night. 

“I want to, Hosea, with all my heart I want to,” Dutch admitted, avoiding his friend’s gaze. “But...” he sighed deeply. “He’s my son, as far as anything goes and...” 

“Dutch, I know. Believe me. I know. He’s my son too. But I ain’t blind old friend. I’ve seen how you look at him, and how he looks at you. Even before all this happened,” Hosea replied, with a half-smile. “There ain’t no blood or kinship preventing you from claiming him. He’s sixteen, near seventeen, and old enough as far as I am concerned to know what he wants. Putting that all aside...if you don’t claim him Dutch...what will happen to him?” 

Dutch nodded, thinking back to those Omegas he had seen over the years; lost souls in brothels, used up and discarded, or else bred over and over again until they died by uncaring Alphas. Left on the streets, diseased and starving...

No. 

That would never happen to Arthur. He would rather die than have Arthur suffer like that. Arthur was his to care for and protect. 

To love. 

He...he loved Arthur Morgan. More than a friend, more than a brother, more than a son...He loved the very bones of Arthur, and by God he would prove it. 

“That won’t happen to Arthur,” he voiced, knowing Hosea was likely thinking of the same pitiful Omegas they had both witnessed. “Can....can you make that tea? You know the one...I...The last thing we need is a baby right now. And bless him, Arthur is too young to be put through that, whatever the doctors say about ‘starting them young’.” 

Hosea nodded, “Of course, I’ll have it ready by tomorrow. Are...are you going to do it here?’ 

Dutch thought about it, he glanced over to the tents as he did. “No,” he decided. “We’ll go to town. Arthur...he deserves a bed, plush sheets, a proper bath. I want to spoil him. He deserves it. He...he deserves the whole Goddamn world and I’d give it to him in a heartbeat, Hosea.” 

“I know, Dutch, I know.” 

He sighed and stretched a little. “I...I best get out of here. In case he starts again soon. I’ll go ahead and scout, see if I can find the nearest train station or else a stage coach stop. We’ll pack up when he’s fit and ready and head off.”

Hosea blinked. “All of us? I thought you had plans out here?”

“I did, yeah, but that lad is more important just now. We’ll pack up, head to civilisation, and see what that holds for us,” Dutch said, rising. “I’ll be back in a few days...three at most. You keep your hand on your gun, Hosea. Hopefully...the scent of me will linger and keep off troublemakers.” 

His old friend stood up and nodded then shook his hand. “God speed, Dutch van Der Linde. God speed. We’ll be packed up and waiting on you.” 

Dutch smiled, “Don’t I know it.” 

A few moments later Dutch mounted up and rode off into the wilds once more. 

_ 

Arthur’s heat ebbed and flowed over the coming days; he sweated and burned with what looked like fever one moment, then shivered and cried in pain as chills racked him. 

Hosea kept him dosed with whisky, herbs and potions to take the edge off it, but without an Alpha there was little he could do but ease him through it as best he could. 

What hurt the lad more was that although he cried for him, begged, pleaded and sobbed, Dutch never came. Hosea had tried, in moments of lucidness, to explain where he had gone and why, but these were forgotten quickly and soon he would resume asking for him. 

It seemed, even in the height of delirium, the only thing on his mind was Dutch. All he wanted and thought about, apparently, was the Alpha. Not that Hosea could blame him; the lad was in love, that much was plain. 

_

Finally, on the morning of the third day it ended. Arthur woke up, damp with sweat on his bedroll, his hair sticking up all directions. He blinked up at the canvas and sighed. He felt...calm, at peace, once more. It was over, he reckoned. He had survived. Though at times he was sure he would die. 

Arthur lay still a time, then took stock of his body. He had some scratches on his arms, chest and legs; self-inflicted he surmised, from the blood under his nails. He also had a throbbing pain over one eye where he supposed he must have smacked himself. 

He couldn’t remember much of what had gone before these last few days and nights...the only things he could remember with any clarity were thoughts of Dutch. 

Dutch...

Now he was better...He could see Dutch. 

Arthur sat up, too quickly, swayed a little and fell back down with a wince. He felt nauseous and then tried to remember the last time he ate. He had a vague memory of Hosea trying to feed him stew -rabbit, he thought- but he kept turning his head away. 

“Hosea?” He called, making a face when he heard how weak his voice sounded. It was croaking too, like he hadn’t had a drink in days. Which he hadn’t, of course, despite Hosea’s best efforts. 

There was a rustling outside the tent and a figure stepped in. Arthur blinked a bit, as the sun blinded him before his eyes adjusted. 

“Hello, son,” Dutch said, a hand tucked into his gun belt. “You up for a little adventure?” 

Arthur sat up again, slowly this time, with a smile. The blanket pooled about his waist. “Always, Dutch, always.”


	9. Birthday Spoiling (NSFW at end)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch treats Arthur to a luxury day, and at the end of it, he finally gives in to what he feels...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks we are nearing the end! :D Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me! :D I cannot believe the feedback I have had, and I am so happy you enjoy it all. 
> 
> I’ve taken liberties with this chapter’s location etc but hell, I like Saint Denis and it felt right :P Shout at me if you need to but I am happy with it :P

“Where?” Arthur said, looking at the name on the ticket Dutch handed him in the station. “Where the hell is Saint Denis when its at home?” 

Dutch laughed and clapped him on his shoulder, “Arthur! You uncultured philistine! It’s pronounced ‘San Deni’ not Saint Denis, like it’s named for a saint called Denis!”

Arthur looked blank. “Then why is it spelt like that?” 

“It’s French, dear boy, French. It’s not be questioned, just enjoyed,” he replied, ushering Arthur back out onto the platform where Hosea was waiting with their bags, such as they were; they had few possessions they wished to keep, and what they couldn’t carry they would leave behind. They had only taken one tent, wrapped up tight, and a bag each. It was easier to travel lighter. 

Besides, Dutch had plans; they would soon make their fortune and buy some land, out west, away from the law and the troubles. It was all settled. Before he -Arthur- was twenty they’d have made their fortune. It was all arranged. Dutch had a plan. He always had a plan. 

“So why are we going there?” He asked, picking up his haversack as the train rumbled into the station. 

Dutch grinned and shouldered his own bag as Hosea picked up his and the tent. 

“I told you, son. Adventure,” Dutch said, with a wink. “And a treat too. Trust me, Arthur. It’s all in my plan! Now come on, friends. Let’s have a little trip to Saint Denis!” 

-

The train journey was long but comfortable and pleasurable. Dutch -God knows where he got the money- had paid for them to travel second-class. It was a lovely car, with plush seats and the light breeze coming in through the window kept them cool in the plains heat. 

All along the way Dutch and Hosea talked of their plans, engaging Arthur in conversation when he wished; but he was happy to watch the landscape passing by. He smiled as he did, half wishing he could draw or sketch. The landscape was beautiful. Maybe he would buy a notebook in the city. He had some dollars left, as they had been in the middle of nowhere he hadn’t spent any of his last take. It wasn’t much; about $8.20 but still, it was something. 

He made a mental note to have a look when they had some time. 

Hosea had dosed him up with herbs and potions so that his scent was lessened enough that they could travel without issues. Until he was claimed and mated, he’d be ‘up for grabs’ as it were. The thought made him blush. He had never thought of himself appealing...He was still skinny, not having yet filled out much, and though his voice had broken it was not yet deep and manly like Dutch’s. His hair was sandy and long-ish down his neck to his nape. 

Arthur reached up and toyed with a lock of his hair as he thought. Maybe he should go to a barber...

“So Arthur, the big city!” Dutch said, leaning over a little to nudge his shoulder with his own. He grinned then put an arm around Arthur, his hand stroking the nape of his neck gently. “You are in for a treat, lad. We’ll take rooms at the best hotel in the city; a proper bed, my boy! There is nothing better.” He winked. 

“For sleeping?” 

“For anything,” Dutch winked again and stroked his fingers down Arthur’s neck briefly before turning his head to Hosea, who was going over their funds. “How much have we got in the collection?”

Hosea said nothing for a moment as he counted out dollars in his lap then he said, “About $37.90 I reckon. Though a few of the coins are bad.” 

Dutch nodded, pondering. “It could be worse, friends. But we’ll need to sort that out...” He fell silent and looked out of the window. 

“Don’t worry, Dutch. Rich pickings in towns and cities. We’ll soon have a good stash to cushion our little adventure,” Hosea smirked. He too was rather looking forward to a bit of luxury. It was rare for them. “And Arthur?” 

“Yeah?” Arthur, who had been smiling shyly to himself and enjoying the touch of Dutch. 

Hosea, who could guess what he was thinking, said, with a smirk, “Just be careful in the bath, of course.”

Arthur groaned and laughed, shaking his head, “Are you ever gonna let that go? I was young and foolish!” 

Dutch laughed too, “Ah son, it was funny!” He leant in and whispered, “You look beautiful when you blush...You should do it more often.” 

The Omega obliged and flushed scarlet, turning his face to the window in an attempt to mask it. Dutch stroked his neck then resumed talking to Hosea. He noticed, with embarrassment that his jeans felt a lot tighter all of a sudden! Was it because he had now presented...that even the most innocent of touch from Dutch had him blushing and aroused like a harlot? 

Was this really love? Or was he just desperate? Maybe that was what love what...a desperate ache all over his body. 

_

Arthur craned his neck as the trained pulled into the station at Saint Denis, to see out of the window. The big city was alien to him entirely. He couldn’t remember the name of the ghastly place where Dutch and Hosea had found him but it wasn’t very big; a large town, he seemed to recall. He certainly didn’t miss it! 

Dutch leant over him and looked out of the window too. “Ah, Saint Denis! All life is here Arthur, we’ll find adventure here for sure. First things first...lodgings!” 

The train stopped with a slight jerk and Dutch stood up, shouldering his bag. Hosea and Arthur followed. He watched every move his elder made and marvelled at his confidence. 

“Come on friends,” Dutch said, beaming. He strolled across the platform without a care in the world. He might have been a King for the way he moved. People stepped out of his way, without noticing it seemed, even carriages and horses. 

Hosea smiled as he watched too then said, in a low voice to Arthur, “Dutch was born to move in society, even if he doesn’t like to admit it,” he said, with a smirk.“But he is also made to rob!” He laughed. 

Dutch strolled along the streets, gesturing to them to look at the balconies above, hanging with honeysuckle and lilac, or waving at the elegantly dressed ladies who blushed and hid behind their fans. “Afternoon ladies!” Dutch called, his voice dripping witch charm. “Officer! How law abiding you keep the streets,” he added, nodding to a blue clad police officer. 

Arthur grinned and looked around shyly from under his hat. “Are we really going to stay at the best hotel?” He asked, to no one in particular. 

“Well, maybe not the best of the best,” Dutch replied, turning and walking backwards as he did. “But a good one at least! In fact, I know the place...Across from the park I seem to recall...Near the tailors too, perfect.”

“Tailors?” Hosea said, glancing down at himself then Arthur. “Sure, we need it but we’ve not got enough money right this second.”

Dutch chuckled, “Ah, Hosea, Hosea old friend...since when has that stopped us? Ah, here we are,” he gestured to the hotel. It stood on the Main Street, near a trolly stop, and, as he had said, across from what appeared to be a park.

“Damn...I’ve just noticed...It’s really muggy here,” Arthur said suddenly, wiping his forehead. 

“We’re in a swamp, Arthur,” Hosea said, laughing softly. “Well, what was a swamp until a few years ago. Still liable to flood, apparently, but it will do for a few days, isn’t that right, Dutch?” 

“Indeed, indeed,” Dutch pushed open the double doors and strolled in. 

Hosea and Arthur followed, hanging back. It was best just to let Dutch handle this kind of thing. 

“Afternoon, my good man,” he said cheerfully to the barkeep. “Two rooms, if you please, your best too,” Dutch added. 

The man behind the bar looked up from polishing a glass, “No problem, partner, up the stairs, second floor. There’s only the two up there. That’ll be $8 for the night for both. Another $3 if you all want a bath.” 

Dutch nodded, “That’ll be fine, we’ll take it for a week for now. Here’s for tonight, and for a bath for each of us later,” he held out a hand and Hosea came forward and handed him their money. “I’ve to go to the bank and get the rest, if that is alight?” He smiled. 

The man, a Beta, Arthur scented, looked stunned for a moment then nodded, “Oh...of course, partner, right. Yeah. That’s fine. Take your time,” he said, nodding as he did. 

“Good man!” Dutch grinned and started up the stairs, gesturing to Hosea and Arthur to follow. 

As they climbed to the second floor he said, in a low voice, “Hosea, you’re the best pickpocket of the three of us, can you head out once you’ve had a bath and rested? Get us some funds...”. 

Hosea nodded, looking pleased, “Of course. It’ll be good to get my hand back in practice!” 

They arrived on a carpeted corridor, with two dark oak doors across the corridor from each other. Dutch stepped forward and opened both doors, looking into both rooms, to check which he wanted. 

Neither Hosea or Arthur saw anything odd about this. Both, Hosea as a Beta, and before when Arthur had been nothing, they had just accepted that an Alpha got first choice of room, food and so on. 

Dutch nodded, “We’ll take this one, Arthur,” he called, stepping into the bigger room, that overlooked the park. 

Arthur, who had reached up to remove his hat, blinked and dropped it. He coughed and picked it up, blushing furiously. 

Hosea shook his head fondly, clapped him on the shoulder and went into the second room, leaving him standing alone in the corridor. 

“You coming, son?” Dutch called from inside his...their room. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, adjusted his bag, and walked the few steps on the plush carpet to the doorway of the room. He stopped dead and stared into the room, stunned. 

It was a handsomely appointed bedroom, half panelled in dark work, with a lighter, gauzy paper from halfway up in a soft cream colour. The curtains that hung at the large windows were light too, and picked out with small stars or similar in embroidery. 

A pair of French doors stood open, and Arthur could see beyond them to a black railing balcony, hung with scented honeysuckle that gave off clouds of perfume. Two Queen Anne chairs sat in front of the small fireplace, and a small palm or similar sat in a blue and white china pot in the corner. 

There was an impressive wardrobe, carved all over with vines and such, and a chest of drawers too, with a wash stand before it. 

Arthur took all this in and then noticed the bed. For a lad who was used to tent living on a bedroll, or occasionally a cot, and if he was very lucky, a hard, lumpy bed in a flee invested hotel, the bed in this room might as well have been meant for a King! 

It was a four-poster, something he had only seen in Dutch’s books, and looked heavenly soft with a red and cream patchwork quilt and numerous pillows. He wanted to leap onto it like a child. 

“Arthur, you look like a fish!” Dutch said, laughing fondly. “Close your mouth lad. I told you, I want to give you a treat. It’s your birthday week.” 

“Oh...yeah, I forgot,” Arthur said, laughing softly. He closed the door behind him and dropped his bag on the floor. “Seventeen...”

Dutch smiled. In truth he had forgotten it entirely what with Arthur’s heat and so on, and he had a sneaking suspicion they had missed the actual day. But who would know? Tomorrow. They’d celebrate tomorrow. 

“A fine age,” he said, smiling. “We’ll have to stop calling you boy,” he joked, with a wink. 

Arthur flushed and said, nearly without realising it, “I like it when you call me boy, Dutch...” 

Dutch looked pleased by this and slowly walked over. His hand came up and removed Arthur’s hat, letting it drop to the carpet. He ran his fingers through the silky, sandy strands, stroking over his scalp.

Arthur made a soft noise, almost like a cat’s purr, and leant into his touch. “Dutch...” he whispered. “I...I need...” 

“I know...I know, Arthur...but...I want to do this right, son. I want to spoil you. But...tomorrow...tomorrow I’ll...” Dutch drew in a deep breath and smiled, “I’ll claim you, alright?” 

“P-please Dutch...can’t we just?” 

Dutch’s hand stroked down to his throat and his fingers curved over his nape, where the mating bite would be. Where he would put it. Tomorrow. “Arthur, trust me, alright? I’ll do it, I promise, but we’ll go slow. Today...we are going to have a bath, go to the barbers, and the tailors, eat and drink and just relax. We’ll go to bed early, and then tomorrow...we’ll celebrate your birthday, properly.” 

Arthur flushed again and smiled shyly. “Promise, Dutch?”

“Have I ever let you down, son?” 

“Never,” he replied, at once. 

_

They bathed separately and after bidding Hosea goodbye and good luck on his hunt for dollars, Dutch and Arthur strolled down the streets, enjoying the atmosphere, on the way to the barbers. 

“Should I cut my hair short again, Dutch?” Arthur asked, toying with it. He didn’t mind either way, really. He had never given his hair much thought. But...well now he wanted to please Dutch. 

Dutch glanced at him and seemed to ponder. He smiled and ruffled Arthur’s hair, “Maybe just a little trim, to neaten the edges, son, but it suits you. Of course, if it’s annoying you, get it cut.”

“Nah...It’s alright,” he smiled, feeling warmth bloom in his chest. “Are you going to cut yours?” He asked.

“I don’t think so, maybe a trim, like you, and a good shave,” he rubbed his stubble. “Though I think I’ll leave the moustache.” 

“It looks good on you,” Arthur agreed as they reached the little shop. 

Dutch grinned, “Why thank you son, so polite!” He chuckled and greeted the barber. 

Naturally, Dutch went first, while Arthur sat on the bench, watching his every moment. He couldn’t help it. Every twitch of his face, flick of his eyes, curve of his lip...

Arthur shifted on the bench and coughed, rubbing his neck to distract himself. He turned his gaze to the notices and such on the wall, there was nothing of interest but he needed to keep his mind off what was inside his jeans. 

The barber took no notice of him, so he said a silent prayer that Hosea’s tea must be working. When he was claimed it wouldn’t matter. No one touched a claimed Omega. It wasn’t done. It was akin to incest; something that you knew was wrong in your bones, by instinct.

Of course, things sometimes happened...but even outlaws recognised a claimed Omega as someone else’s. Once Dutch had claimed him, he would be Dutch’s forever...No one could or would part them. Ever. 

He sighed happily and smiled to himself. It would be wonderful. 

“Your turn, son,” Dutch said, appearing in front of him. He looked so handsome. His hair, slicked back with pomade, curling lightly at the ends. His cheeks shaved clean, and his moustache trimmed and neatened. 

Arthur jumped, blushed and stood up before walking over to the barber’s chair. 

“What do you want, lad?” The man asked, looking at him in the mirror. 

“Um...” Arthur glanced at Dutch in the mirror and blushed. 

Dutch smirked and sat down on the bench, crossing a leg over his knee. “Just a trim, neaten it up and so on,” he replied, shifting a little to make himself comfortable. 

“Of course, sir,” the man said, getting starting on his hair. 

_ 

A little while later, Arthur -trimmed and neatened- and Dutch -the same- left the barber shop. “Now...” Dutch said, grinning. “The tailor.”

“Dutch...we don’t have money for clothes, do we?”

“Not right now, no,” came the reply as they set off. “But Hosea will find us soon and we’ll have the funds. Don’t worry about it, trust me, Arthur,” Dutch added, grinning. 

Arthur smirked to himself. He wondered if he would ever have Dutch’s supreme confidence! He doubted it. Still, if wouldn’t need it. He would have Dutch himself. 

“Are we buying clothes for cold weather?” He asked, jogging to catch up with Dutch. 

Dutch himself laughed. “No, son. You don’t just buy clothes for cold or hot weather. You can buy clothes any time of the year, just because you want to. But we are buying you some new clothes because it’s your birthday.” 

“Alright, then,” he said, blushing slightly. Even when a score had gone well, Arthur had never been one for spending it quickly. Usually, depending on if they were near a town with a gunsmith, he’d buy ammo, maybe customise his Springfield a little or get a new holster or some such. But aside from that? 

Well, he also usually bought some premier cigarettes and good whisky, and maybe a few cans of food, but that was all. The display of wealth and show-off nature of the city was lost on him. Though he noticed Dutch fit in well, despite his plain clothes...Hell, Dutch could be in sack-cloth and ashes and still cut a figure like a Lord. 

As they walked in comfortable silence, Arthur pondered this. Was it because Dutch was a Alpha, an Alpha born to an Omega mother, and therefore smarter, stronger, and so on? Or was it just his personality that did it? If Dutch had been a Beta or an Omega himself...would he have cut the same look and presence? 

Arthur reckoned he likely would have! There was just something about the way Dutch moved, held himself, spoke...Hell, there was just something about Dutch. Biased as he was. 

They strolled through the park, Dutch tipping his hat to the ladies and nodding to the gentlemen, as Arthur tagged along beside him, feeling ten-foot tall to be allowed to walk beside such a man. 

The tailor shop was a revelation to Arthur; bolts of fabric lined the walls, stunning gowns with tiny waists were displayed on manikins, as if awaiting a suitor, suits of silk and linen standing tall and elegant. He stared about him, stunned, as Dutch approached the tailor and took off his hat. 

“Good Afternoon, my good man,” he said, tapping the highly polished counter. “My son here turned seventeen yesterday and I think it’s about time we got him looking like a man!” 

“Ah, a fine age!” The man agreed with a smile. “Oh to be seventeen again,” he added with a chuckle.

Dutch joined in, “Indeed!” 

“So,” the tailor looked Arthur over and smiled. “He’ll be well built when he fills out. I think he might be taller than you too in a year or so.”

“No doubt, no doubt,” Dutch said, grinning. “I’d like him to have a new pair of pants, hard wearing but comfortable. Perhaps a couple of shirts, again, hard wearing and comfortable...And...” he looked at Arthur and smiled, “I think a few vests too. We shall see what colours will suit.” 

The tailor, noting this down as Dutch spoke, “Of course, of course...Boots?” 

Dutch glanced at Arthur’s current boots. They were worn thin. “I think so, yes. Do you have the Quick Draw boots? I rather like the cut of them.”

“Ah! Yes, very popular indeed. We do,” the tailor nodded. “In several colours.” 

Arthur blinked and came closer to Dutch as the tailor went into the back room, “Dutch! That’s gonna be really expensive!”

Dutch merely smiled and patted his shoulder, “Don’t you worry, Arthur. Don’t you worry! It’s for your birthday!” 

“But-“ 

“Arthur, son, please, let me treat you,” Dutch said softly, his tone broke no argument. 

Arthur went silent with a flush and fiddled with his suspender strap to give him something to do. 

“Right, son, this way!” The tailor came back and waved his hand to the backroom. 

_

Arthur stared at himself in the mirror. He looked rather good, if he said so himself! The pants were dark and hard wearing, though with a fine cut to them, the shirt, white cotton, was soft and loose enough that he’d get a good few wears from it even if he filled out. Dutch had also ordered new suspenders, in good leather that wouldn’t snap, and these, coupled with the red fronted vest, made him look like a man, not a boy anymore. 

He glanced down at his feet and grinned. His new boots would take a little time to be comfortable but damn did they look fine. Medium dark leather, with a lighter leather sewn on for decoration. He loved them. 

It had taken an age to get everything measured and done, the tailor worked with him, while Dutch had wandered off with a junior, saying he wanted to get a new shirt for himself. 

Arthur turned, when he heard Dutch’s footsteps in the corridor behind him. He stopped dead, mouth open in a stunned, silent gasp. 

Dutch....Dutch looked...he looked like Dutch. It was as if he had never seen him before, and now, dressed as he was, he had become who he was meant to be. 

He wore tailored black pants, that made Arthur desperate to see inside them. He swallowed and let his eyes stray upwards; a crisp white shirt, and best of all, a black vest, with some detailing in lighter black. Two gold chains hung from it. He had changed his hat too, for once of black. The contrast was delicious. 

When Dutch turned, to give him a view of the back he saw the waistcoat had a red silk back, adding to the contrast. 

“How do you like it, Arthur?” He said, smirking. 

“I...I ugh...it...it suits you,” he whispered, blushing furiously. 

“Well good,” Dutch smirked again and came over. “These suit you too.” 

Arthur smiled happily and looked down at his boots, feeling like a child. 

Dutch grinned and clapped his hand onto the back of Arthur’s neck, stroking once more over his nape. He seemed unable, like Arthur, to think of anything but the other. 

“Excuse me, sir, but a gentleman has just arrived, looking for you?” The tailor said, tidying away his fabric scraps. 

“Ah, that’ll be Hosea! Excuse me a moment,” Dutch walked out and Arthur heard him and Hosea speaking. 

“That’s you done, lad, you can get down off the chair now,” the tailor added, laughing softly. 

Arthur blinked, blushed, and stepped down. He thanked the tailor and then walked out to see Hosea passing Dutch a handful of dollars. He grinned. As ever, Hosea had come through. 

“Ah, here we his!” Hosea said, smiling and embracing Arthur. “You look very charming, my boy. It suits you. I am glad to see you haven’t gone over the top, unlike someone...” He gave Dutch a pointed look. 

Dutch just smirked and tucked his fingers int his gun belt. “You’re just jealous, old friend. Actually...” he handed back the dollars. “Here, you stay here and get yourself a new set of clothes, and pay for ours while you’re at it. I’ll take this reprobate back to the hotel.”

Arthur grinned at the thought and happily bid Hosea goodbye, then followed Dutch, like a puppy, out of the shop. He nearly swaggered, he felt so confident. The fact that he, Arthur Morgan, was allowed to walk beside a man such as Dutch, amazed him! 

“Thank you, Dutch, for...for this,” he said, smiling shyly. 

“Never mind that, son, you deserve it,” Dutch smiled and glanced back at him. “Right, I am going to pop to a few places, pick up a few bits and pieces...How about you go and relax at the hotel? Have a drink. And I’ll be back soon.”

Arthur pouted. “Can’t I come?’ 

Dutch’s hand settled on Arthur’s back and he smiled, before gently pulling him into an embrace. “Don’t pout, lad. I won’t be long. It’s a surprise for you. Now off you go,” he pulled back, winked, and then released him. 

“Alright...” he smirked and then turned and set off back towards the hotel, turning a little to peek and watch Dutch walk off. He couldn’t help it. 

_ 

“Mmm...” Arthur sighed in happiness as he sank into the hot, fragrant bath water. He didn’t need it, having washed when they arrived, but hell, it was his money, and when they left they wouldn’t get this luxury for a while! 

He reclined back, the water up to his nose, and closed his eyes. There was a knock at the door and Arthur sat up, looking confused. 

“Need any help in there, honey?” A female voice rang out. 

Arthur flushed, “N-no, thank you.” 

He listened as the woman’s footsteps receded then he sighed again and sunk back down in the water. He felt himself relax entirely, and by God it had been a while since he had. 

He thought of Dutch’s hands on him...and wondered what it would be like to share a bath with him...His large hands running up Arthur’s body, exploring him..

Arthur groaned and felt his cock starting to stir in the hot water. “Oh...” he whispered, shifting a little and biting his lip. “Ugh...” he wondered if he should take care of it. It had been a while. 

Slowly, half expecting to be stopped by some force, Arthur let his hand slip under the water and down his chest and stomach to grasp his hard cock. He moaned softly, his eyes slipped shut as he did.

“Mmm...” he groaned, his hand moving slowly up and down his length, then occasionally twisting at the tip. He shuddered. “Oh...D-Dutch...” he whispered, images of Dutch’s hand on him, Dutch stroking him, touching him...

His hand quickened at the images in his head. He imaged Dutch taking him on the great bed in their room, laying him out on the plush quilt, filling him...

Arthur groaned and shuddered as his balls tightened and he came in the water with a gasp. He hadn’t meant to finish so fast but the images of Dutch...

Suddenly, taking him entirely by surprise, a strong hand curled around his as it held his spamming cock. “Arthur...” the unmistakable voice of his mentor breathed in his ear. 

His eyes shot open and he flushed when he saw Dutch kneeling beside the bath, his dark eyes alight with promise. 

“D-Dutch! I...” Arthur blushed and went to remove his hand, feeling foolish all of a sudden. How long had Dutch been there? 

The hand on his held him tight. “Don’t be embarrassed, son...it was a stunning display...” Dutch leant in and nosed up his neck, his tongue flicking out to taste his skin. “Mm...your scent, Arthur...it’s like nothing on earth. I...I want you so badly...”

“Then...then take me, please, Dutch...I can’t wait no more,” he whispered, leaning into Dutch’s face. “Make me yours...entirely...” 

Dutch closed his eyes, fighting the urges within him to just grab Arthur and have him here and now. After a moment he re-opened his eyes, calmer now. “I told you...I want to do it right. On a bed, properly. But...” He stood up then grabbed a towel from the side. “To hell with it, stand up...” 

Arthur grinned and rose, water running down his slender form. He went to take the towel from Dutch, to dry himself, then blushed as he shook his head. 

“I want to dry you...” Dutch slowly started to; rubbing the towel over Arthur’s arms and shoulders, breathing in the heady scent of Omega, his soon to be Omega. He ran the towel downwards, over Arthur’s chest, down to his stomach and back up, ignoring his cock that was making a valiant effort to get hard again. 

Seventeen indeed. 

Dutch tenderly dried him all over, practically drooling as the scent intensified. Finally he gave up, tossed the towel over his shoulder and pulled Arthur to him. 

Their lips met in a burning kiss, one that had been brewing for days in reality but which had been on the cards for years no if Dutch was honest with himself. Both fought for dominance, both desperate to taste the other, but as ever, Dutch won finally and his hands came up to cradle Arthur’s head as his tongue explored the Omega’s mouth and lips. 

“You...you taste so sweet,” he whispered, pulling back a little to look at him. 

Arthur flushed and reached up to stroke his hand over Dutch’s stubble free cheek. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Dutch...” he admitted. “I...I love you, with all my being...” 

Dutch closed his eyes. His heart felt like singing. Arthur loved him. Arthur...his Arthur, loved him. 

“I love you, Arthur. More than anything in this damned world, I love you,” he replied, kissing him once more. 

“Dutch...” Arthur whispered against his lips, “take me to bed...please...” 

“You don’t need to ask me twice, son...” 


	10. Joined As One (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Dutch finally come together!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are folks! :D Sorry for the delay hehe I hope it was worth the wait!

Dutch swept Arthur from the tub and embraced him, as if he weighed nothing at all. It did not make him feel small and worthless...it made him feel loved and protected. He was held close against Dutch’s chest. He could feel his heartbeat against his own chest.

For a moment they stood together, silently. Arthur’s head tucked under Dutch’s chin. He smiled into his mentor’s waistcoat and whispered, “I never want to be from your arms, Dutch.”

A heavy hand stroked down Arthur’s neck and shoulder, then down his back, to gentle settle on his hip. “You’ll always be in my arms, son. No one will part us, that I promise. Ain’t no one taking you from me,” he replied, his voice dripping with intent. “No one. Not even God himself, I swear.”

From anyone else that sentence might have seemed boasting at best or blasphemy at worse but to Arthur, hearing it from Dutch, it made perfect sense. He believed it implicitly. If anyone could defy God, it was _Dutch van Der Linde!_ Truly it was as if the laws of men and the laws of the Heavens simply did not apply to him.

If Arthur had not been in his arms and his heart, he would fear the man in his very bones.

Dutch’s hands, both this time, swept up his back then down again to gently cup his ass. He groaned softly into Arthur’s ear and whispered, “You’ve gone all soft, Arthur...your skin...since you presented.”

Arthur flushed and he was sure Dutch felt it in his skin. “Have I?” He asked, hiding his face once more in the rich fabric in front of him.

“Mmm...” In reply Dutch moaned softly, his hands slowly exploring Arthur’s back and ass, taking in the baby-softness of his skin. “Oh God, son...You have no idea how much I want to mark you...” he whispered, his lips pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

“Why don’t you?”

Dutch grinned, “Because I want to put my mark on you, as I fill you with my cock...”

Arthur blushed scarlet and glanced up at Dutch. “Please, Dutch...Please...Alpha...” he whispered. “Take me.”

“Mmm,’ Dutch moaned softly and, with a lot of control, stepped back, taking his hands off the Omega as he did. “I am going to go and get a bottle of whisky...When I come back to the room, I want you lying on the bed, waiting for me...”

He turned and left the room without glancing back; he knew full well that Arthur would obey.

The Omega himself make a small noise, almost like a squeak -that he would later deny strenuously- and stared after Dutch. He swallowed, coughed, and grabbed his pants quickly. He frowned a second then walked over to the door and peeked out. As he leant on the door he winced and glanced down. He had entirely forgotten about his wrist; being near Dutch had taken the pain away.

Was that all in his head or was it part of being near an Alpha he was desperately close to? He didn’t know. Or care frankly.

Arthur checked the corridor, grinned when it was empty, then, feeling daring and confident, he ducked out of the bathroom and padded down the carpeted corridor. The feeling of plush carpet on his bare feet was delightful. Arthur grinned again, like a cheeky child, then darted into their room, closing the door behind him.

The heavy wooden door blocked out all the sound, creating a safe, comforting environment. He imagined Dutch had planned all this out. Arthur folded his clothes on the first chair then smiled shyly to himself as he glanced at the bed. He walked over, his hand -his good one- stroking over the soft quilt.

Then he remembered Dutch’s words. He blushed and climbed up onto the bed and moved to the middle. He bit his lip then settled against the pillows, half reclined. He stared up at the canopy above him and tried to slow his breathing.

Dutch...Dutch was going to claim him. This time tomorrow...he’d be his. Entirely. Legally. Bonded together in blood and in soul. The idea set his blood on fire once more and he glanced down between his legs to see his cock standing hard and erect at the very thought.

Life with Dutch. It was going to be glorious. He could tell. Arthur bit his lip and slid his good hand down to his cock, encircling it gently. “Mm...” He was so lost in images of Dutch’s hand on his cock, that he missed the sound of the door opening and closing, then the bolt sliding home. He couldn’t miss it however when Dutch spoke.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, coming over to the side of the bed and gently removing Arthur’s hand from his cock. “Behave yourself, son. This is mine...”

Arthur gasped and looked up. He blushed then said, “Sorry, Dutch...I... I couldn’t help it...”

“I know son,” Dutch chuckled. “You’re seventeen, and near your Alpha. It’s enough for most Omega’s to come straight away. So…I admire your control, but,” he gently ran a single finger down the underside of Arthur’s cock, “keep your hand off your cock, until I say.”

“S-sure, Dutch,’ Arthur whispered, biting his lip straight away to try and stop himself from exploding. “Please Dutch...I’ve waited so long. I... I’ve been good, please...Please!”

Dutch smiled and started to unbutton his vest, “I know, Arthur. I know.” Still he took his time, drawing it out. He knew how to handle Omegas. He knew it instinctively. Of course, he had fucked a couple in whorehouses and so on; he was only human after all! He knew to draw it out. Especially in mating...He wanted, needed, Arthur to be strung out, desperate and begging when he sank his teeth into the boy’s neck.

He folded his vest neatly and put it on the end of the bed, then started on his shirt. Dutch watched Arthur’s face. He was breathing hard, flushed, lips parted and wet, his eyes wide and glassy. His cock was red and straining between his legs. Really the poor boy looked like he was about to explode into a thousand pieces any moment.

“Arthur...son, calm down...” he said softly, shrugging out of his shirt to reveal an impressively powerful torso.

Arthur couldn’t, he was breathing hard, panting almost, and shaking.

Dutch, noticing at once, was at his side, holding his face in his hands, his own close to Arthur’s so all the lad could see was him. “Arthur...Arthur, breathe with me alright? In....and out.... in...and out...that’s it...calm down...”

The lad did as he was bid, dragging in breath and letting it back out with a desperate motion. He brought his hands up and gripped at Dutch’s, his hands shaking with need.

“D-Dutch I... I can’t cope. I...”

“Hush, Hush, I know...I know,” he replied, stroking his thumbs over Arthur’s cheek bones, feeling them wet with tears. He realised that if he waited any longer Arthur would cross over int pain. He had to act and now. There would be time for slow later...after all, once it was done, Arthur...Arthur would be his. Forever. They had all the time in the world.

“Just breathe for me, son, just breathe. Close your eyes if that helps, alright? I’m gonna get you ready...”

Arthur nodded, gasping again and slamming his eyes closed. This had the effect of heightening his senses he found. He heard Dutch, and felt it too, move away from him for a moment. He heard the rustle of fabric, the chink as suspenders hit the carpet and bounced against the bedpost. He strained to hear more and thought he could here Dutch going through a bad or something, but he couldn’t make enough out to be sure.

He breathed in and smelt something pleasant. He frowned, trying to place it. Perfume? Maybe? He frowned, trying harder. He was so focussed on that that he jumped when he felt the bed dip a little and Dutch’s hand ran up his leg briefly, to curl about his knee.

“Dutch?” He asked, tempted to peek but rather enjoying the feeling of surprise, relying just on scent and touch alone. Besides, it was good practice for tracking.

“It’s alright lad, you just keep breathing...Everything is in hand...” he replied softly, his hands stroking up and down Arthur’s legs.

Arthur himself blushed and bit his lip. He felt Dutch shift a little then laughed softly, unable to stop himself, as he felt the Alpha slowly, and deliberately, spread his legs open. He bit his lip hard to hold back the shy retort. He could almost feel Dutch’s eyes staring at his ass and his cock.

Fingers, thick and strong, and coated in the fragrant, pleasant scented stuff, oil he assumed, from before, gently traced around his hole, coating him but not dipping in... yet. “You know...An Omega in heat produces slick, Arthur...to allow an Alpha to enter them easily...”

“Mmm.” was all Arthur could reply as the fingers teased the rim of his hole.

“But...as you are not in heat, we need to use other methods,” Dutch chuckled and carried on teasing him. “And don’t you worry...an Omega can only catch with a pup when they are in heat...”

At that Arthur did open his eyes. He blushed and bit his lip, “A pup? I... Ain’t I a bit young for that?”

Dutch could have kicked himself. He had meant to reassure him, not imply he had plans on that score. He moved his hand up to cup Arthur’s face, leaving a swipe of oil on his cheek. “Oh, son, I didn’t mean it like that. Just to reassure you...You’re right. You are too young, son. Not that I don’t want you to maybe...one day but you’re half a child yourself, Arthur.”

Arthur smirked at that. “I ain’t! I’m a man, grown, you said!”

His Alpha chuckled, “You know what I mean, lad!” He stroked his hand down, over Arthur’s chest and back down between his legs. “Now...where we...”

“Um...Mmm...” Arthur was cut off from replying when Dutch’s fingers teased around his hole again. After a moment he slowly pushed the tip of his index finger inside him. Arthur groaned and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Mmm, so tight, son,’ Dutch praised him, slowly easing his well-oiled finger inside him. “This’ll take some time...”

“Time, Dutch?” Arthur said, blushing. “Time for what?”

Dutch smirked and leant down to press a soft kiss to Arthur’s lips before he whispered, “To get you ready for me, lad. Open you up a little more...”

Arthur flushed and craned his neck up, eager for another kiss. Dutch obliged then sat back once more, his eyes focussed on Arthur’s ass. “Now...let’s get this show on the road...I can’t wait to be inside you. It’s been so long, son. So, so long... My Omega...”

“Alpha...Mm... Shit!” Arthur gasped and arched his back as Dutch pressed his finger deeper. “Dutch...More...Please...Alpha...More...” He rolled his hips down onto his finger, trying to get more inside himself. The sudden desire to be filled had taken over him.

“Hush, Hush...I know what you need,” Dutch crooned, slowly and gently easing his middle finger inside Arthur too. The tightness was wonderful. “Mmm, my good boy. So tight, so hot...You feel so perfect,” he whispered, leaning down again to mouth at Arthur’s throat.

He slowly started to thrust his fingers in and out, gently scissoring them as he did...coaxing his Omega open for him. His tongue traced along Arthur’s jawline, mouthing kisses into his skin. His scent was overwhelming, inviting and delicious.

Arthur responded to his touch like a natural, his body opening up for him like a flower. He groaned into Dutch’s neck and whispered, “More, Alpha. More...”

Dutch smirked then, without looking and keeping his lips teasing at the lad’s throat, he eased another finger inside him.

“Ah...” Arthur tensed at the sudden intrusion and winced a little, but it sooner passed, helped by Dutch’s soothing sweet nothings whispered in his ear. “Mmm...Oh...” he moaned a little, shifting his hips again. “Please, I’m ready...I’m ready, Dutch. I am... Please...”

“Really?’ Dutch smirked against his skin. “I doubt it, son...You ain’t seen my cock yet, and you’ve to take my knot too...”

Arthur blushed, realising that was true. “Oh...I...”

“Trust me, Arthur,” Dutch said, smiling. “I’ll do it when you’re ready, and not before.”

He continued to finger and tease at Arthur’s hole, coaxing him to louder and more pronounced moans. He eased another finger inside, making four in total, and chuckled when Arthur moaned like a bitch in heat. He gently pulled them out after a moment, watching with barely concealed lust as Arthur’s hole twitched and winked around nothing.

Arthur leant up a little and watched as Dutch moved off the bed and, smirking, started to unbutton his pants. He hadn’t even noticed they’d been lo0se. Though he recalled now the sound of Dutch’s suspenders hitting the carpet. He swallowed, not in fear but in anticipation, as the Alpha took his time with unbuttoning and then easing his pants down his toned and muscled thighs.

The Omega gasped and stared, stunned, at the large and beautifully formed cock. He took all of it in, amazed by the sheer size of it. It was in proportion to Dutch’s body, so he supposed he should have guessed it would be sizeable! He swallowed again and blushed.

Dutch stood, naked and proud, by the bed. A trail of dark hair ran down from his navel, pointing a little happy trail to his erect and eager cock.

Arthur lay back and opened his legs submissively, “Alpha...take me...”

The Alpha growled softly and climbed onto the bed, stalking towards Arthur on his knees. He moved over him, covering the smaller male with his body. Their lips met in a crushing and passionate kiss.

Arthur could feel his large cock between his spread thighs, their stomachs pressed together, chest to chest. “Dutch...I can feel your heartbeat...”

“Soon...soon you’ll feel it within you. We’ll be joined, body and soul...forever,” he replied, kissing Arthur again before he rose up a little and took hold of his own cock with one hand. “It might hurt a little, Arthur,” he said softly, “But...but it’ll pass...”

“I... I can take it, Dutch. I can take it!”

“Oh really?” Dutch smirked and lined up his cock with Arthur’s hole. He looked down as his tip kissed the rim. “Take a breath, son and relax...”

“I know, Dutch! I know...” Arthur said, doing as he was told. He wanted to prove to the Alpha he was ready and able and...and perfect. He groaned softly and arched his back again as Dutch’s tip spread open his hole. “Oh...shit...” he huffed out, feeling tears spring to his eyes. The Alpha had been right! He was...big!

Dutch paused, holding himself still to give Arthur time to adjust. He took a breath in himself, and counted to twenty slowly, all the while watching Arthur’s face. He was amazed by the changing facial expressions the lad went through; from pain, to mild discomfort, and finally to pleasure. “Alright?” he asked softly, stroking over Arthur’s cheek.

Arthur gasped and dragged in some air then nodded, shifting his legs a little. “Y-yeah, I think so…” He fisted the quilt beneath him and swallowed as Dutch started to push forward again.

“Hold onto me, Arthur…if you need to hold onto something, hold onto me,’ Dutch groaned as he inched forward. His eyes slipped closed in pleasure. He felt Arthur’s hands slid up his hips and his back to come to wrest on his forearms. The Omega gripped him tight, tight enough to bruise. He’d likely had marks tomorrow. The thought made him smirk. They both would. Inside and out.

Arthur’s fingers dug into Dutch’s arms briefly then slid down to settle on his hips instead, so he could feel the shift and thrust of each of Dutch’s movements. This added to his pleasure. He groaned aloud and snapped his eyes open to watch his lover’s face. Dutch’s eyes were closed again, his lips slightly parted, soft gasps slipping through with each gentle thrust.

“Dutch…Dutch…oh…” he groaned. He felt so full, so deliciously full.

Finally, with a deep groan, Dutch was fully seated inside Arthur, their hips pressed close, Arthur’s cock, hard and weeping, leaving trails on the Alpha’s belly. “Jesus…Jesus…” Dutch whispered, unable to stop himself. He…he was fully inside his boy, sheathed deep and warm.

“Finally!” The Omega whispered, giggling as he did. He dragged his hand up Dutch’s back and over his shoulders to cup Dutch’s cheek. He was daring, that was for sure. An Alpha, fully inside his soon-to-be mate, could be testy and dangerous, but Arthur felt no fear. He knew Dutch…He would never, ever hurt him, even by accident. Dutch’s control was such that the Omega trusted he would hold back any over-the-top violence. Some was to be expected, of course, he knew that.

In the same way an Omega could not help their heat, an Alpha, near and inside his Omega, could only have so much control. Arthur was rather looking forward to it…to see Dutch’s control crack a little. He’d never seen it before. And he knew Hosea hadn’t either.

“Insolent boy,” Dutch replied, with a smirk. He opened his eyes and gazed down, lovingly, at the boy beneath him. He lifted one hand -the other supported himself by Arthur’s head, his knuckles white from the effort of holding back- and stroked through his hair gently. “My boy, my boy,” he crooned softly. “You’re so tight…so…so hot…” he added.

Arthur flushed and felt his body heat at once. “For you. All for you,” he replied.

“Damn straight!” Dutch growled softly, this thumb stroking over Arthur’s pouting lips. “Can I move, son? You…you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Arthur replied, shifting a little. There was a little discomfort now, but not much…He was slick from the oil and it felt as if Dutch was _meant_ for him. As if his body had been shaped to fit Dutch’s perfectly.

Maybe he had, who knows? Whatever the reason, Dutch felt like heaven still, so what would he feel like when he started to move? Arthur was keen to find out.

And he didn’t have to wait long.

Reassured by the Omega, Dutch slowly drew his hips back, planted his hand back by Arthur’s head, then his hips forward. They both let out a groan and a gasp as pleasure exploded up their spines.

Dutch’s cock rubbed over something deep inside Arthur that made his head spin and his hands clench around nothing before they settled on the Alpha’s shoulders. He dug his nails in as Dutch repeated the action with a smirk.

“Good?” He teased, grinding his cock inside the Omega.

“Shut…shut up and fuck me!” Arthur snapped, without malice. He rather ruined the force by dissolving into moans and breathy gasps, like a whore, when Dutch took him at his word and began to thrust in earnest.

It felt like sparks were exploding behind his eyes, Arthur thought, as he stared up at the canopy above them, focussed on the feeling of Dutch’s strong, hard, Alpha body at work between his thighs. The scent of sex and sweat, of the matrix of Alpha and Omega coming together, was overpowering. He was flushed, wrecked and half-drunk, or so it felt like. Dutch’s cock filled him so completely, thrusting inside him, sending fiery burst of pleasure up and down his spine with each advance and retreat. 

“A-Arthur…” groaned Dutch, his voice low and dangerous. “I…I need to…” he whispered.

Arthur’s eyes found Dutch’s and for a moment they stared at each other. Then Arthur nodded and slowly turned his head to the side and went entirely limp in submission to the Alpha.

Dutch stared at the skin of his throat, his eyes blown in pleasure and amazement. Now the moment had come…he swallowed. There was no going back. Was this right? Arthur…he was only seventeen, should…should he tie the lad down already…

“Dutch?” Arthur’s voice interrupted his panic. He blinked and realised that the lad had turned his head back to stare up at him once more. “What’s wrong? Don’t…don’t you want to?”

“I…” Dutch swallowed and cupped Arthur’s cheek, “I do. I do, son, beyond belief…I want you more than anything! But…” he paused, trying to formulate his words, “I just…you are so young, Arthur, and…and I feel that maybe we should wait?”

Arthur sat up suddenly, wincing a little as Dutch’s cock shifted deeper inside him and, due to Dutch being distracted, he managed to flip them over, so that he was straddling the Alpha. He settled his hands over the prone man’s chest and dug in his nails in, “Listen to me, Dutch van Der Linde…I’m a man grown now, and I want you, from now until forever! Don’t you back out now! I love you. I love you with my whole being…I would die for you, Dutch. I’d kill for you. I would move heaven and earth to be with you…So don’t you dare suddenly treat me with a child!”

Dutch lay under him, listening, wide eyed. He had never heard Arthur say so much at one time. He was normally so reserved. He swallowed and reached up to gently stroke over the lad’s pulse point then whispered, “I’m sorry, Arthur. I shouldn’t have hesitated. I…”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me,” Arthur interrupted and crushed their lips together, kissing his Alpha deeply. He pushed his tongue into the waiting, hot mouth. He moaned softly and whispered, “I love you, Dutch. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Arthur Morgan…I love you, and I am only sorry it took so long for me to realise it,” came the reply. Dutch’s hands settled on Arthur’s hips and stroked the soft skin there. “I…I need you to move, son.”

Arthur grinned and sat back on Dutch’s cock. This was a new feeling for him. He slowly rolled his hips down, groaning in pleasure. Going on instinct he lifted himself and thrusted back down, delighting in the feeling of Dutch’s cock inside him. He knew he would never tire of this feeling! He quickened his thrusts, smirking down at the Alpha below him, who was gripping his hips hard, and gasping in pleasure along with him.

“Oh, Arthur…” Dutch growled and flipped them again, pinning the Omega below him once more. He thrusted with abandoned, his cock jackhammering in and out of Arthur quickly and roughly. Not that Arthur himself minded! He was moaning so loudly that Dutch was sure the other guests would hear them! But he could not make himself care.

Suddenly Arthur shuddered and his cock spasmed and spilled hot across his stomach. Dutch, pressed closed, was spurned on, desperately chasing his own pleasure. “A-Arthur…I’m…get ready…” he grunted, feeling darkness pull at his eyes. He growled and leant forward, licking a hot strip up the lad’s throat, near the junction of his neck and shoulder.

Dutch’s teeth teased the skin for a second, giving a small warning, before he sank them into Arthur’s flesh hard, breaking the skin and causing beads of blood to bloom, and break, running down his pale skin. He locked his jaw, making sure the wound was set and formed.

As his jaw locked, his cock and balls twitched and suddenly he too came with a muffled groan. His seed spilled hot, and scalding, inside the Omega.

Arthur screamed out, not in pain, but in insane pleasure. The bite mark did not hurt -confirming to him that this was right and true- and instead it felt as if every one of his nerves was vibrating in pleasure. He dug his nails into Dutch’s back and writhed in his arms. He could not move much, held so tightly, and could only feel. It was the greatest feeling he had ever felt…

He groaned, soft and desperate, and soon faded from wakefulness as the pleasure took over.

-

The Omega came too nearly thirty minutes later, lying on his side, tucked to Dutch’s chest, not a grain of sand’s space between the pair. Dutch’s hands were wrapped around him and resting on his stomach. He blinked sleepily and lay still, feeling Dutch’s cock still within him, locked together from his knot. He blushed and peeked over his shoulder.

“Welcome back, my sweet Omega,” he whispered, kissing Arthur’s neck, right over the claiming mark. It was red and raw, with dried blood staining it, but as far as the Omega was concerned, he had never seen such a beautiful mark in his life. He had never felt so well either. “You’re mine now,” Dutch added, smiling softly. “Mine…forever…”

Arthur sighed happily and covered Dutch’s hands with his own. “And you’re mine.”

“Always,” came the reply. “Always, Arthur. No one will come between us.”

“What now, Dutch?”

“Now?” Dutch chuckled, “Now we lie here and bask in the glow…for once, I have no plan.”

Arthur laughed and snuggled deeper into the soft quilt, “How shocking! The Great Dutch Van Der Linde…with no plan!”

“Indeed!” Dutch himself laughed too. “For now, I care not. You’re mine, and I have you in my bed and arms. I don’t care about anything else right now.”

“I love you, Dutch,” the Omega whispered.

“And I you, Arthur…And I you…”


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A newspaper article... And the end :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much folks :D I am amazed by all the comments and kudos! I have loved, loved, loved writing this :D I may do some more in this world, if you like it :) Let me know what you think! Feel free to email me on nekoink@hotmail.com xoxox

** Saint-Denis Chronicle – 12th August 1880 **

****

** Daring Bank Robbery by Vicious Van Der Linde Gang! **

_This past day saw a daring and vicious robbery at the First National Bank of Saint-Denis, our fair city. The culprits are believed to be the Van Der Linde Gang, headed by the infamous Alpha Dutch Van Der Linde; he was rumoured to be accompanied by one Hosea Matthews, a Beta. Van Der Linde and Matthews are known to numerous officers as devious and cunning; they have robbed and killed hundreds of people in their careers!_

_The city is to remain calm._

_Another fellow, who, according to witnesses was an Omega. This author doubts such reports. The fellow, according to one, Monsieur Henri de Macron, a gentleman of leisure, bore a mating bite upon his shoulder. It seems unlikely that the terrible Van Der Linde would have claimed an Omega, with the Omega’s consent, and so we must add rape to his list of crimes. This author apologises for any ladies who must read such terrible things and recommends they do not read such without their husband’s permission, for fear the content inflames their minds._

_Mayor Jean-Claude Babineaux insists that “our great city is as safe as ever, and these unfounded reports are baseless. We consent that a robbery did occur, but it was small and not worth concern. The culprit has been caught and hanged. Remain calm, I beg of you. These rumours of Van Der Linde involvement are baseless. They are false. Van Der Linde is not, nor has he ever been, within my city.”_

_The Chief of Police, Monsieur Gregory Lennox, also commented that “the crime was well planned, and the guards did not engage the criminals. The said guards claimed an Omega was present and that they did not wish to harm said Omega. This claim is being investigated. The robbers are believed to have taken some $300 from the bank in notes, and 3 gold bars, along with a collection of jewellery.”_

_Conflicting reports indeed…continued on page 2._

___

Dutch smirked and folded the paper up, tucked it under him on the seat of the wagon and shook his head.

“Fools, the lot of them, Hosea, old friend,” he said, nudging his partner on the seat next to him. “Reckon it was, on the one hand, a shambles, and on the other, that we got away with a good score.”

Hosea chuckled and gave the reigns a flick, “They’ve underestimated the amount, either on purpose to avoid causing panic, or because they haven’t checked that last safe yet! $600 indeed. Closer to $850.”

“Yes, it was a good take! And no injuries or damage, thanks to our secret weapon,” he smiled and glanced back into the wagon where Arthur was asleep on a sack of grain, relaxed and at ease. His head lolled to one side, showing the still red claiming mark.

Dutch smiled fondly. His boy. They were going to be alright now. He could tell. It was all going to plan…

The End (?)


End file.
